


Shards of a Fool's Diamond

by AvaCelt



Category: DDT Pro-Wrestling, Dragon Gate Pro Wrestling, Pro Wrestling NOAH, Professional Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angsty Schmoop, Apollo 55, Eventual Romance, F/M, Forgiveness, Gen, Healing, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Reconciliation, Taguchi Japan, True Love, brownie points for everyone who can put a name to a face!, i am literally writing a reunion fic of one of my oldest ships, so many wrestlers make cameos, the boys fight for their championships here, this is an Apollo 55 reunion fic, wrestling is real folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2018-12-19 17:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 49,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11902281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaCelt/pseuds/AvaCelt
Summary: It's April 15,  2019, and Ryusuke Taguchi is turning forty. Halfway across the world, Prince Devitt falls asleep a free man.





	1. First Light

**Author's Note:**

> Paragraphs in italics are flashbacks.

Ryusuke awoke to flowers and omurice. Tired eyes admired creamy colors until he mustered the energy to caress the petals of the magnolia flowers lying patiently on his bedside table. It was barely dawn, but the bouquet was fresh. He could hear the teapot whistling in the other room, the dull shuffling of sock-covered feet pattering across the wooden floors. He grinned.

Normally, he'd be slightly terrified of random flowers and freshly cooked breakfast in his apartment since he lived alone and ran on prepackaged pastries in the morning, but it was his birthday. Birthdays were joyous occasions. Being the kind of person that he was, he liked spending them outside and about. He didn't always have someone to celebrate with, but the few times he did, he cherished it- cherished them. It was his third birthday as the leader of Taguchi Japan, and he didn't even have to call the members this year to ask them if they had the day off to celebrate with him. Last year, he'd been on the phone for hours and managed to convince two of the members to accompany him on a day-long food run, and the year before, he spent the day alone, traveling around his hometown with a green afro wig and a pair of starry sunglasses. This year, they broke into his house instead.

Sure, Tanahashi, Juice, Ricochet, and Kushida all had keys to his place, but he still felt giddy knowing that they'd taken the time to come in early and make him food and bring him flowers. It felt great to have friends. To say the least, Taguchi Ryusuke was giddy. He was still bruised up from Sakura Genesis, but he could walk. If he could walk, then he could talk, and if he could talk, he could leap on top of his friends and hug them to death.

“If you're up, hurry up and shower!” He heard Tanahashi call from the other room. “Also, my wife sent pastries. If you don't get up in the next half-hour, Rico and Juice will finish them!”

Ryusuke scrambled out of the bed, fell face first into the carpet, and let out a painful groan. He felt strong hands help him up.

“Good morning, Captain.” Ricochet grinned. “Feeling old yet?”

“You're old too,” Ryusuke sputtered before breaking into a cheesy grin.

Ricochet scoffed, helping him untangle the sheets from his legs. “I'm like thirty. I'm not _that_ old.”

“You are bald!” Ryusuke screeched gleefully.

“Stop bullying younger men and go take a shower!” He heard Tanahashi holler from the other side of the apartment. He scoffed and begrudgingly shuffled into the bathroom while Ricochet picked through his closet for fresh clothes and accessories.

Before Ryusuke shut the bathroom door, he gave Ricochet a whistle. “What are we up to today?”

Ricochet gave him the side-eye. “You'll find out when we want you to find out.”

Ryusuke gave him a look of utter betrayal, but Ricochet barely gave him a second glance. Ryusuke shut the door and the pout slid off and transformed into another smile. He could break out into a dance _right now_ if he wasn't so bruised up from his match with Takahashi Yujiro. He didn't think it would be that bad considering they weren't wrestling for anything special, but Takahashi had laid him out in less than fifteen minutes and left enough bruising that he'd probably go into Dominion with purple marks still littered across his body. To think that he was once Ryusuke's friend was beyond him.

He slapped his face and inwardly sniped at his inability to act normally for even a minute. Bad memories made for hard drinking with the wrong kind of people, and Ryusuke didn't want to have a bad day today. He was among friends, and he had a good breakfast and a lot of tea waiting for him with some of his closest friends. He had a lot to look forward to today, more than he did the year before, and the year before that, and even the year before that.

The rest were memories of the rain.¹

* * *

“ _You're turning thirty-one,” said a beautiful man in broken Japanese. “We have to celebrate!”_

“ _My loins are unloved!” Ryusuke sobbed. “I don't even have a girlfriend!”_

“ _You don't need a girlfriend to celebrate! You know what? I'll find you a nice girl when we get to the club!”_

_Ryusuke perked up. “We're going to a club?”_

“ _A **disco** club, to be exact. Get your hat and glasses, Ryu, we're about to have ourselves a blast!”_

* * *

“-and Kushida-kun's meeting us at the subway. He's still banged up from his match, so we didn't want to call him up early for breakfast, but he's buying lunch. Hey, Taguchi-san! You good?”

Ryusuke blinked, snapping out of his reverie. “Kushida, subway, lunch.”

“Yeah, Captain.” Ricochet chuckled. The young man turned back to Juice, an apple in his hand. “He better. Intercontinental title prize money has to be good.”

Tanahashi took a sip of his coffee and nodded. “It is. After I beat Naito for the title two years ago, I bought my wife a diamond necklace with the prize money. She slapped me after I put it around her neck because I exacerbated my arm injury in the match, and she was livid I didn't use the prize money to put us over while I got surgery, but you know, it was still pretty romantic even if I did have to sleep on the sofa after we made love.”

That set off a string of laughter at the table, especially from Ryusuke, who was still somewhere between heaven and Earth, just floating.

“You guys pray for me please,” Juice begged, earning a pat on his shoulder from Ricochet. “If I don't win this title at Dominion, I'm packing my bags and going home.”

“What, back to Shibuya?” Ricochet snickered. “When was the last time you were in States, Juice?”

He blinked and rubbed his chin. “Not since Christmas.”

“And your Japanese,” Tanahashi noted, “is much better than Rico's.”

Ricochet pouted while Juice snickered into his tea. “I'm doing my best though.”

“We all are,” Tanahashi said wistfully.

Juice set his cup down and slammed his hands down on the table, rattling the plates and cups. “OK, but someone explain to me why _Desperado_ still has the US Heavyweight Title. He defended it twice in ROH after beating Omega, and that was it.”

“It's not a Bullet Club member, at least,” Tanahashi said with a look that screamed 'yikes.' “And you know, he's excellent in the ring and even better on the mic. Even if he is an asshole, he is a _strong_ asshole and he beat Kenny-kun fair and square, both in their first match _and_ their rematch. Remember when he beat Kushida-kun back in 2017? No one expected it, but he made it happen. Suzuki raised his son right.”

“I still miss Omega as champion,” Ricochet admitted. “He was a dick, but at least he was fun. Desperado's just scary.” He shuddered and took a bite of his apple.

“I heard he and AJ are headlining Wrestlemania next year,” Tanahashi admitted. “Shinsuke called Yoshi-Hashi to tell him that the trouble was finally piling up in the company and that talent were planning to flock to different promotions. Sombra-kun's finally back in CMLL again, and Kenta's almost finished mediating the sit-down between NOAH and Kidani-san. Kenny and AJ are, objectively, their biggest draw, and they'll have to go with it if they want to reel in the full seventy thousand at the next show.”

Ricochet frowned. “Well, with Nakamura-san mid-carding right now, I'm not surprised.”

“Three million dollars for a two-year contract?” Juice rubbed his forehead. “Kenny got them good.”

“By the balls,” Ricochet whistled.

The comment set off another string of laughs, and one that finally brought Ryusuke back to Earth. “It must be nice to go where your heart desires,” Ryusuke beamed. “I'm happy for Kenny-kun.”

Tanahashi rolled his eyes. “There he goes, waxing poetic.”

Ricochet lightly punched Ryusuke's arm. “Always wishing people the best of luck, even when they won't wish you anything back.”

“You're too nice, Taguchi-san, too kind for those assholes.”

Ryusuke shrugged. “I'm alive, aren't I?”

Tanahashi gave him a long look, but opted to drink his coffee instead of saying anything. Ricochet cleared his throat, attempting to clear the atmosphere. “So, amusement park. Are we ready to aggravate our injuries from Sakura Genesis, gentlemen?”

“Hai!” The rest called in unison, even Tanahashi whose eyes never quite left Ryusuke's cool visage.

The early morning light sprinkled warmth on their skin when Ryusuke and his friends stepped out of his apartment building. Deep down, the darkness became that much dimmer.

* * *

“ _It's your birthday; now **I** get to choose the venue.”_

“ _Ryu, I swear to god, if it's some racist little bar with go-go girls in Celtic braids, I'm gonna murder you.”_

“ _No, you will not, because you love me.”_

_And he did. For that brief moment in time, Prince Devitt loved Taguchi Ryusuke very much._

* * *

The subway was packed, students and salarymen packed together like sardines on the platform, waiting for their respective trains to come and take them to their destinations. Ryusuke and his friends stood out like sore thumbs, but once Kushida jogged down to the platform, Ryusuke gave up any sense of respectability and jumped on his friend in the colorful graphic tee and blue snapback. Kushida, being Kushida, twirled him around and gave him a loud, wet kiss on his cheek, one which Tanahashi photographed and uploaded to his social media almost immediately, while Ricochet and Juice clapped and settled in for a group hug. The people around them didn't notice, and if they did, didn't care to comment. It was life at its best, a moment in time where Ryusuke's chest felt light and his heart thrummed with love.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¹: Another Bleach reference. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	2. Midday Breeze

“ _I don't want him to leave.”_

“ _Then **you** have to leave. He's made too many enemies in this company, Taguchi. Either you see him out, or I'll get someone else.”_

“ _And if I lose? He'll still be here and I'll be out of a job.”_

“ _Then don't lose. You love wrestling, don't you? You gave your entire life to this business. He didn't love you enough to stay by your side, so why do you care if you put him out for good?”_

“ _I don't know, Gedo! Maybe it's because I still care about him! Did you think of that?”_

_Gedo gave him a harsh laugh. “Either you win, or you don't.”_

_It was Ryusuke's thirty-fifth birthday in nine days, and he knew it would be the worst one yet._

* * *

“-and then my girlfriend and I watched television for three hours and then fell asleep on the couch. We woke up to our cat and dogs tucked around us,” Kushida said gleefully. “God, I love her. She could hit me with a lariat and I'd take it as a blessing.”

“I heard Milano-san was ready to strangle Cold Skull when he came back from Ring of Honor with a big bruise on his shoulder,” Juice said conspiratorially.

Tanahashi scoffed. “Cold Skull's an idiot if he thinks getting bruised up is the problem.”

Ricochet rose an eyebrow. “What's the problem then?”

“Milano-san is getting old,” Ryusuke perked up. “He wants to get married.”

The world outside of wrestling, outside of the daily hullabaloo of traveling around the the country, and sometimes, the world- it was a life Kushida, Juice, and Ricochet had jumped in and out of for a long time. They still walked the line between the two worlds, but they were older now, much older than some of their peers.

“Makes sense,” Ricochet chuckled. “Milano-san's older than you, isn't he, Captain?”

Ryusuke nodded. “He's Tana's age.”

“Which means he should have been married ten years ago, but the country wasn't ready for it at the time.” Tanahashi sighed. “Milano's a sap. He wants a happy ending.”

“He'll get it if Naito's any example,” Kushida perked up. His engagement ring was around his neck, held near his heart by a gold chain his fiance gifted him with the ring. “He and Bushi tied the knot in Mexico.”

“We weren't invited to the wedding,” Juice sniffed, miffed that he hadn't gotten an invitation.

Ricochet giggled. “I did. Tessa and Cold Skull are close, so I reckon I'll get an invitation to his ceremony as well.”¹

“Trust Rico to have all his free food days in line,” Ryusyke chuckled. “I wish both of you the best of luck getting your wedding dates finalized. All I ask is that you let me wear green to the ceremony so that you won't have to worry about me misbehaving at the reception.”

Ricochet snickered into his fist. “Sure, If you can wait another ten years. Knowing Tessa, she'll permit it.”

“Ayako won't mind,” Kushida chimed in.

“Just to put it out there, I'm still a slut,” Juice said seriously. The group of men burst out into giggles as their train neared their destination. “I mean, sure, I'm thirty, but I'm still young! I like living life to the fullest.”

“I concur,” Ryusuke hummed. “Park's almost here, boys.”

They got off of the train with giddy smiles, earning confused looks from some of the passengers. It was the start of the week, an early Monday in mid-April. The amusement park's stop was devoid of human beings besids Ryusuke and his friends.

“I can smell the cheap beer all the way from here,” Ryusuke said reverently.

“More surprises to come, Ryu.” Tanahashi clapped Ryusuke's shoulders hard before creepily whispering in his ear. “I swear if I see that depressing look on your face _one_ more time, I'm suplexing you into a short coma.”

Ryusuke gave him a fearful look. “Stop trying to kill me,” he squawked, loud enough for the others to hear.

“Tanahashi-san, you're scaring him,” Kushida giggled. Juice and Ricochet burst into snickers, though not one of them was aware of what Tanahashi had just whispered into Ryusuke's ear.

“OK, OK, are we ready? Because I'm ready.” Juice put his fist out in front of him and whooped. The rest joined, loud and brazen in the early morning.

The more Ryusuke smiled, the more he forgot.

* * *

“ _Your knees are shot, you need ice packs and a nap.”_ ²

“ _No, what I need is a cold beer and a chat with my mom.”_

“ _Devitt, you can call your mom tomorrow. It's late and you need sleep!”_

_The squabble continued until they arrived at their hotel. They couldn't stop bickering until the driver dropped them off at the entrance and the taxi disappeared down the road. “Fine. I'll call her tomorrow, but you're buying me beer.”_

_Ryusuke rolled his eyes. “Of course.”_

_Devitt cradled the junior heavyweight title in one arm, the other looped around Ryusuke's shoulder. They trudged up the stairs to the receptionist's desk, checked in, and made their way to the elevator. Most of their teammates were still finishing up their duties at the Dominion venue, but a few had finished early and were scattered around the building, eyes fixed at nothingness as the full brunt of the night dawned on them. Ryusuke dropped him off at their room. Though they were sharing the chambers, he knew Devitt would need a few moments alone with his newly-won title._

“ _You did well.”_

_Devitt smiled, a grin full of teeth and tiredness, a smile fit for a king. “Thank you.”_

“ _I'll be back later. You get some rest.”_

_Devitt nodded and shut the door. Ryusuke turned around and left. Downstairs, he saw Marufuji drinking quietly at the bar, and joined him._

* * *

 

“I spoke to Shibata yesterday.” Tanahashi had a cigar in one hand and a diet Pepsi in the other. “Asked him if he was ready to defend at Dominion, and he told me to fuck off and hung up the phone. Then he texted me a picture of him lounging on the beach with the title. I saw Goto in the background with his wife.”

“Yikes.” Ryusuke took the imported cigar from Tanahashi's hand and took a long drag. The spicy taste got his synapses firing, while the heavy smoke clear calmed his soul. He passed the cigar back before taking a sip of his cold beer. The sharp taste of the cigar and the heavy taste of the beer clashed on his tongue. The sensation made him feel older, more mature. He giggled.

Tanahashi gave him a long look before taking a drag of the cigar. He blew perfect smoke rings into the air, causing Ryusuke to poke at them with delight. A smile crept onto Tanahashi's face and Ryusuke was painfully reminded of old crushes and bygone days. Tanahashi had shoulder-length, light blonde hair these days. Sometimes, he wore hairpins to accessorize the thick waves. At forty-two, he was still going strong, and even though he no longer had a belt to show off in public, he was entering in the summer's G1 for another brutal tour.

Ryusuke eyed the arm that the older man had finally, albeit begrudgingly, gotten surgery on. It was fully healed now, but 2017 was a wild year. He'd lost the Intercontinental title fair and square to Suzuki's newest member, a noodly young man by the name of Zack Sabre Jr. The second the belt was torn from his waist, his wife showed up backstage. No one knew she was in the Destruction crowd, especially not Tanahashi when he finished his backstage interview. He hadn't gotten in two words before she forcefully dragged him into her car, still sweaty and in his colorful tights, and drove him to the hospital. He was in surgery within hours.

She'd planned on taking him to the hospital, win or lose. It brought a cheesy smile to Ryusuke's face. How many times had he wrapped a t-shirt or a towel around a friend's injury? Ryusuke had lost count. He'd been in the business for seventeen years. Things tended to blur after a while.

“Okada won't challenge for it again until King of Pro Wrestling,” Tanahashi remarked after several minutes of silence. “Do you think he deserves a fair shot before the G1?”

Ryusuke shrugged. “I think fresh blood would be better, but there's a lot of fear in the ranks. No one wants to challenge Shibata unless they can _kill_ Shibata.”

“He's already dead inside,” Tanahashi deadpanned. Ryusuke giggled but the blonde merely rolled his eyes. “I'm serious. He's about as soulless as the void now. Any man who has to eternally third wheel his best friend's marriage after failing his _own_ marriage lost a piece of himself to the darkness.”

The comment set off full blown laughter from Ryusuke's side. His sounds of mirth blended in with the gleeful chatter of the amusement park, filled mostly with individual adults and couples, though not nearly as packed as it could have been. Once Ryusuke regained some control of himself, he took a long swig of his beer. He left the foam coating his mustache alone and wriggled his eyebrows suggestively at Tanahashi. Tanahashi threw a napkin at his face before breaking out into another beautiful smile.

“ARE YOU TWO JUST GONNA SMOKE ALL DAY, OR ARE YOU GONNA COME JOIN US ON THE FERRIS WHEEL?” Juice hollered from high up in the air.

Ryusuke's eyes shot upwards and away from Tanahashi. He honed on Juice's waving form and cackled. “FOR YOUR INFORMATION, THIS CIGAR COSTS MORE THAN THAT US HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE YOU'RE ABOUT TO PULL OFF DESPERADO IN JUNE,” Ryusuke yelled back.

“TANAHASHI-SAN, DID YOUR WIFE SAY YOU COULD SPEND THAT MUCH MONEY?” Ricochet called from their shared car.

“NO, BUT WHAT SHE DOESN'T KNOW WON'T HURT HER,” Tanahashi called back before taking another smoke from the cigar.

“SELFIE TIME,” Kushida declared. Their car jolted as the ride began to turn again, earning whoops and yells from its three passengers as phone cameras shuttered excitedly. Ryusuke laughed along, even though he was on the ground with Tanahashi.

“Keep laughing, Ryu.”

Ryusuke turned back to look at the blonde man. “Did you say something, Tana?”

“Finish your beer,” Tanahashi replied. “I'll finish the cigar. We're hitting the go-karts as soon as they get off.”

* * *

“ _Promise me something, Ryu.”_

_Ryusuke was halfway to lala land. “Huh?”_

“ _Never change. No matter how hard it gets... you never change, OK?_

_Ryusuke scoffed. “Isn't that asking too much from a guy you've only known for a few years?”_

_Devitt slung an arm over Ryusuke chest and mumbled drunkenly into his ear. “Happy 33 rd birthday, Ryu.”_

“ _Look at you, blathering like a drunk husband to his lonely little wife,” Ryusuke lamented out loud. “You didn't even kiss me goodnight, asshole.”_

_Devitt's face ended up in his chest, his drool soaking into Ryusuke's shirt while he snored into the night, loud and unforgiving. Ryusuke sighed. They were sprawled in the back of the van they rented to drive to the bar. They should have headed back to the hotel ages ago, but two shots became six hours of drinking and dancing, and now they were wasted and smelling of cheap alcohol, lying in the back of the van like a pair of homeless university students._

“ _Promise,” he whispered to no one in particular, sleep creeping into his bones. “But then again, I've been this way for most of my life, Devitt-san. How were you before you met me? Were you always this nice?”_

_Devitt didn't answer and Ryusuke never asked again. A year later, Devitt left him for dead, and when Ryusuke finally came to his senses, he experienced a crushing sense of loneliness he swore he'd never let himself fall victim to ever again._

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¹: Tessa Blanchard and Seiya Sanada are actual, real-life buds, and I thought it prudent to include this tidbit into kayfabe.
> 
> ²: This scene is a post-Prince Devitt vs Naomichi Marufuji, in which Devitt defeated Marufuji at Dominion 6.19.2010 to win the IWGP junior heavyweight championship, a match in which Ryusuke Taguchi had escorted Devitt into the ring and supported him from ringside without interfering.


	3. A Storm That Howls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Omega also told him that it might be too late. It was too late for the Golden Lovers, after all.

“LEE-KUN!”

“TAGUCHI-SAN!”

“DAVID-KUN!”

“DAD!”

“HE'S NOT YOUR REAL DAD, DAVE!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, JUICE!”

* * *

“ _I saw the great void in your soul, and you saw mine,” Devitt waxed poetic.¹_

_Ryusuke poked his head out of the kitchen. “Who did what now?”_

“ _It's a line from “Birdsong” by Sebastian Faulks.”_

“ _.... is that someone we have to wrestle soon?”_

“ _It's an English author, Ryu. My sister sent me a copy of the book.”_

“ _My English is so-so, please don't make me read it.”_

_Devitt rolled his eyes. “Just remember the lines.”_

“ _Translate them into Japanese.”_

“ _... I can't.”_

“ _You have lived in this country for almost five years.”_

“ _I'm sorry!”_

“ _He says he's sorry,” Ryusuke told the spoon in his hand. “OK, fine, repeat the lines.”_

_Devitt cleared his throat and began softly. “I saw the great void in your soul,” he said, looking Ryusuke straight in the eye. “And you saw mine.”_

_The pot whistled on the stove and Ryusuke dove back into the kitchen. “I saw the great void in your soul, and you saw mine!” He yelled over the steaming curry._

_Their laughter mixed in with the sounds of clamoring plates and cups created its own kind of symphony._

* * *

“How did you manage to fly them in?” Ryusuke mumbled into Tanahashi's neck.

Tanahashi huffed and shifted Ryusuke's weight on his back. “I made arrangements back in January. Everyone was on board by New Beginning.”

Ryusuke giggled into Tanahashi's neck, gripping onto his shoulders with little strength. He was hardly drunk, but he was tired. Ricochet had offered to carry him on his back from the train station to Ryusuke's apartment, but Tanahashi had stepped in before Ryusuke could formulate a reply. He was going to say no and retain whatever little was left of his dignity, but being carried by Tanahashi as opposed to being carried by one of his juniors was a whole different situation. He had feigned being Juliet and ended up on the older man's back, legs wrapped around his waist, and forehead resting gently against the other's warm scalp.

They were far behind the others. Ricochet and Kushida had bid their goodbyes, while Juice had led Dragon Lee and David Finlay ahead to his apartment. They were faster, as spry as their youth would allow them, whereas Ryusuke was one hip replacement surgery away from permanently retiring.

“I love you, you know,” Tanahashi told him. “You're one of my closest friends.”

“Really?” He was a bit surprised. He thought Shinsuke was still number one in his heart, kind of like Goto was to Shibata.

“He's another one, but you're part of that group. I care about you, Ryusuke, do you understand that?”

Did he? “Uh huh.” He wasn't always the most coherent when discussing matters of the heart. More so, he wondered how the hell Tanahashi knew _exactly_ what he was thinking about.

“So tell me why you're sad.”

Ryusuke sighed. Leave it to the former ace of the company to completely strip him naked without touching a single hair on his head. “I'm not sad, Tana. I'm just tired.”

“Of what?”

He shrugged. “I don't know. Sometimes, I think it's the work and try to slow it down a bit, but I'm _always_ slow. I've never actually accomplished anything meaningful in my division, y'know?”

“..... I'm gonna flip you over and then punch you square in the mouth, OK?”

Ryusuke sobbed. “Please don't! I have a wife and children at home!”

“A dakimakura with a woman on one side and a man on the other is _not_ a suitable substitute for a spouse! Records of pop and disco music do not count as children!”

“How did you find out about the body pillow!?”

“I found the lascivious cover in your laundry years ago!”

“Why were you in my laundry years ago!?”

“I came to cook for you after you passed out from the flu at the dojo!”

“... Oh,” Ryusuke said meekly. “I completely forgot about that.”

Tanahashi huffed. “You've forgotten a lot.”

“Enough,” Ryusuke corrected. “I've forgotten just enough to stay alive.”

Tanahashi didn't say anything for the rest of the walk home.

* * *

“That will be ¥2,000. Say, you look familiar. Have I seen you on TV before?”

The bearded figure adjusted his sunglasses in the darkness of the night. “I doubt it. I'm an accountant. I'm here on holiday for the week.”

The taxi driver nodded. “My mistake. Have a good holiday.”

The cab rolled down the street and out of sight. The lies were thick on his tongue, so acerbic that he was afraid they'd burn a hole through his mouth. He shuddered at the thought. He imagined he'd look even more foolish than he already did. Who wore thick sunglasses in the dead of night when there was a storm over the horizon?

The man with the dark brown hair spat into the street, took a deep breath, and turned around to the apartment complex. He'd never been to this part of the district before. Most of his time was spent at or near the dojo when they weren't traveling. His first apartment was two train stops away. This part of the district was a full hour and a half away from the dojo by car, and eight stops away by train. He could have caught a bullet train here, but he knew he needed time to think, time to plan. He'd stared at the city lights and cars as they drove out of the main hub and into the residential towns. He was familiar with a lot of it, but clueless to the rest. There were new buildings by the airport, new housing complexes where there used to be unturned soil, and storefronts that sold everything from clothes to specialized tea sets in places that used to be prime locations to get drunk in and then pass out in the back of a rented truck parked nearby.

It also wasn't as if he didn't visit often. He did. He just made a point to visit Fale and the Guerillas, sometimes paid his respects to the reigning Ace of New Japan, but mostly, he visited the last vestiges of his brotherhood. Bullet Club was a broken relic of the past now. It came into existence in one of the most tumultuous periods in his life, and it thrived up until its last leader left the Club in shambles. He should have returned to pick up the pieces, but now the Guerillas had international belts around their waists and had taken to part-timing. Fale had settled into Tokyo for good, now a junior partner in the dojo, and helped resound the Lion's roar all throughout the Pacific and beyond. His own contract with WWE ended amicably after one NXT championship run, two Intercontinental title reigns, and one short-lived Universal title run that could hardly be considered as such, but it still managed to haunt his dreams nonetheless.

A lot happened between 2014 and 2019. There were people he left behind, some who meant a lot more than others. There were people he never called back, letters he threw away once he'd settled into his new home. Was it selfish? Absolutely. He'd broken friendships and thrown aside legacies for a new chance somewhere else. He thought he would succeed, thought he'd find a fresh breath of air and some reprieve, but all he did was remember. The drink was tempting, but his caretakers had refused him access to the bottle. At first, he was livid, but then he realized there was music in this kind of misery. He went through his email's trashbin, and found pictures that dated back almost ten years. He even looked through pictures that were dated _exactly_ ten years ago. Who was he in 2009? Young? Sure. Spry? Absolutely. But was he happy?

He took his sunglasses off and stared at the seven-story apartment block. It looked to be a comfortable place, situated a mere five blocks from the train station, but not so close that people would run to snatch up leases. There was a small convenience shop in front of it, its lights still on, indicating that ready-to-eat ramen and cold beers were available for anyone who was still awake. There were a few more apartment buildings up ahead, small storefronts, and if he were to hop in another taxi and keep driving, he'd find a park with a pond.

He stared at the building. Most of the residents' lights were off, but the hall lights were brightly lit, so deafening in the darkness that he was almost tempted to put the glasses on again. He looked down at his watch, saw that he was still a day late and a dollar short, and looked back up at the apartment complex that currently housed one of the many memories that haunted his every step.

Each apartment had a balcony that looked out into a communal garden and part of the road. He couldn't see the garden from this vantage point, as there was a tall bit of fence separating pedestrians from occupants of the building, but he'd done his research. He and Kenny Omega exchanged emails during Omega's last month with the King of Sports. He gave Omega the names and numbers of all the right people, and Omega told him about the apartment Ryusuke Taguchi procured two months after his thirty-sixth birthday, and had been living in ever since. Omega also told him that it might be too late.

It was too late for the Golden Lovers, after all. Ibushi Kota never came back to New Japan full time after his G1 bout in the summer of 2017. In the fall of 2018, he announced his engagement to a Japanese man with dual citizenship in both Japan and Spain. Ibushi still wrestled, freelanced from one corner of the world to the next, held several championships across various territories and promotions, but now his primary home was a mansion that overlooked the Mediterranean instead of an apartment in his hometown. He'd wrestled in 2018's G1 and came out with a staggering seven victories, but he still didn't take a full-time contract. His soul was as free as his smile, and he'd found love elsewhere.

And Omega? He himself didn't contact Omega unless he absolutely had to, and the last time they spoke to each other was when they finished exchanging information and both ended their contracts with their respective promotions. It had hardly been a formal goodbye, but it was an understood that their working relationship had finally come to an end. They were moving on with their lives, even if he himself was moving _back_ to a place he thought he'd left behind for good. Omega, though, he was going to a place he always knew he'd find himself back in.

He fingered the small box in his hands. It was made of blue velvet, a standard case for small pieces of jewelry. Inside of it was a precious item he'd purchased in Manhattan the day before he was due to leave and carried on his person through the flight. He fingered the fabric of the case in his pocket as the taxi took him to his hotel, then when he left the hotel, then through the taxi ride to the apartment complex, finally up until this very moment. He never let it out of his sight. There were shadows that crept into the corner of his vision, followed his every step, reminded him of his sins and his shame, but he ignored all of it for what resided in his pocket. It was a beacon of light in the darker part of his heart, but now he was just waxing poetic, like a teenager fresh with anxiety before his first date.

He let out a dry chuckle. He was three months short of his thirty-eighth birthday, and had a receding hairline to go with it. He was better at hiding it now though. The beard and excess black clothing helped. Tonight, he wore faded dark blue jeans, a black button down, and a black blazer that his sister had bought for him. His shoes were from a Brooklyn store, his watch passed down from his father. He was old enough to be a husband, a father, a man well on his way to finishing up the heyday of his career and settling into part-time work.

Instead, he'd just signed a full-time contract with Tiger Hattori over dinner in Manhattan, shook hands goodbye with Triple H over drinks two hours later, and received countless well-wishes from Shinsuke and his wife after they heard the good news. He'd hugged his friends goodbye last week, called Kenta while at the airport to arrange lunch for the day after he landed, and now he stood outside the home of a man he hadn't said a word to in....

The sky rumbled. He looked up at the gray clouds that rolled in while he was floating in his memories. He smiled again. The weather seemed to be in sync with the turbulence in his heart. A bestial pain throbbed in his chest, roaring to be heard but unbeknownst to everyone. Where was he? Not home, surely, yet he felt like he was close. He felt like he could reach out and gain absolution. Freedom was here, but it wasn't. Peace was a hair's breadth away. The Demon didn't scream or threaten to crawl out of his skull, but it did cry, cry so much for so long that he remembered that there _wasn't_ any demon. It was him. It was always him.

He dug into his breast pocket and pulled out a key. He didn't know how Omega managed to get a copy of a key to the apartment building's main entrance, but he didn't ask. And yet, he refused a copy of the keys to the main apartment. He was too ashamed to ring the bell, too full of dread to call out into the night, too sober to admit that he was afraid. He was so afraid.

He took a deep breath and took one last look at the sky before walking towards the entrance.

* * *

Ryusuke felt a chill creep up his spine. He tiredly looked around his room and found nothing. He tried drifting off again, but the steady beat of rain wrestled him into consciousness. He felt like complaining, but it was almost three am and he still had to show up to lunch at Kushida's apartment at noon. He decided he might as well watch the rain for a half an hour before trying again. He pulled on a Taguchi Japan hoodie and slipped into his slippers.

Tanahashi had gone home after dropping him off. He tip-toed around the apartment until he got to the guest bedroom. He took a peek into the room to see David, Juice, and Dragon Lee passed out on separate futons. Dragon Lee was tucked in, mask neatly folded on the only table in the room, while Juice was drooling on his pillow with half of his body hanging off of his futon. David was the farthest from the door, sleeping peacefully with a pillow in his arms, no doubt his only girlfriend until he finished his dates with Ring of Honor and came back to New Japan full time sometime the following year. He smiled and quietly shut the door behind him.

He walked out to his balcony. Pulling up his hood, he walked to the edge of the veranda and looked down. A taxi was slowly driving away. He wondered who had the gaul to send a guest away at this hour when the rain was coming down in steady sheets. He couldn't see who was in the cab, but he hoped the stranger got home safely. It was storming outside tonight, the aura much darker than usual, and he didn't want the stranger to get caught in the downpour with no one but a cabbie for company when he probably had someone waiting for him at home.

“Goodbye, stranger,” he said to wet air, and then went back inside.

He would have gone back to bed, would have taken off his slippers, pulled off his hoodie, and knocked out, but _something_ held him back. He groused at the rain, the pattering of the droplets incessant, like the constant buzz of the dojo's boiler. It was April 16th now, his birthday was over, and he was officially forty years old. Maybe some warm milk would help. He'd learned a long time ago that warm milk sweetened with honey was a special nectar for the restless. And yet, his heart tugged. It made him feel anxious, but Ryusuke refused to give in. What the hell was it beating for, anyway? He hadn't had a consistent lover in years. He made his drink, downed it quickly, and then went straight to bed.

The next morning, Juice blasted R&B while making breakfast. David hummed whilst setting the table, while Dragon Lee enthusiastically texted his brother back home. Ryusuke woke up to good company, and at the crack of dawn at that. He was still full-time on the roster, but he was past his prime, so he didn't have to be in the building by eight am. And yet, here he was, waking up with the early morning light with the rest of the younger wrestlers, unable to keep dozing while the others went right to cooking and preparing for the day.

“I'm making tater tots, baby!” Juice hollered in between lyrics.

Ryusuke laughed, as did the rest of the men, though Ryusuke had barely a clue as to what a “tater tot” was. Oh, well. Juice was an excellent cook, and Ryusuke loved his friends. He was good.

Something pulled at his heart again, and he remembered the stranger from the night before. He hadn't seen a single glimpse of the person, had no clue as to what their visage looked like, and yet, he felt drawn to them. They were gone, and yet they weren't.

“I'll be right back,” Ryusuke called to his friends. David threw him a thumbs up and went back to setting the table. Juice was lost in his craft and Dragon Lee was still texting, so Ryusuke merely smiled and slipped away. He opened the main door of his apartment.

And didn't even step out. The anxiety tripled and his heart began to thunder in his chest. A blue velvet box sat on his doormat, alone in the well-lit hallway. A bone-crushing pain threatened to kill his balance. He shakily slid to the floor and picked up the box. Sweaty fingers fumbled with the case until it was finally open.

“You gotta girlfriend, Taguchi-san?” Juice asked. Ryusuke almost jumped. He turned around and saw all three of his guests peering curiously down at the item inside the velvet box.

“That looks like a diamond pendant to me.” Juice whistled and scratched his beard. “Damn, Taguchi-san, you hit the jackpot. A diamond pendant to go with a nice silver chain? Definitely a keeper. You should marry her.”

“Or him,” Lee added. His Japanese was getting better every day. “We know about the body pillow.”

Any other moment, Ryusuke would have recited the speech he had prepared for when people figured out he was bisexual, but his brain went blank. His brain went blank, and his heart was still thundering in his chest, and there was an expensive diamond pendant and a very nice chain to go along with it, housed in a very pretty box in his hands and he had no idea who it was from.

“Oh! They left a note!”

Ryusuke didn't even notice the note. Lee picked the tiny envelop from underneath the pendant and chain and gave it to him, but Ryusuke was too jittery to get a good grip.

“Lemme get that,” Juice declared. He plucked the envelope out of Lee's hand and opened it.

“Is no one gonna mention that the thing's shaped like a soccer ball?” David huffed.

Juice ignored his their friend and read the note with curious eyes while Ryusuke tried to formulate words. Nothing came out, and he had a feeling if he tried to say even a single world, it would come out as gibberish.

“Holy shit,” Juice whistled. “Seriously, Taguchi-san, congratulations. We're happy for you.”

The letter went around the group until it landed back in Ryusuke's hand. He shut the velvet case with the glittering black-and-white diamond pendant and looked at the note. It was typed, so there were no immediate clues as to who wrote it. It was a simple line, with a notation that it was from some sort of book or play.

_If any song can touch the heart, then one should value it. -Birdsong²_

“Did I read that in high school?” David mumbled audibly. “I think I did.”

Ryusuke blinked. He thought he'd heard that name somewhere before, but he'd forgotten a lot over the years. If it wasn't relevant to his life today, then it was tucked away in a far corner of his mind, collecting dust with memories from grade school.

And still, the pendant was nice. Strength returned to Ryusuke's legs, and he finally got up and stretched. “It's nice, isn't it?” All three of his juniors nodded in unison.

“You should marry them,” David noted. “Whoever it is, we support you. Like, even if he wrestles for Kaientai Dojo, or like... if she's an accountant. We don't care; we love you.”

Ryusuke didn't have the heart to tell him he didn't have a single clue as to who left the gift. He simply nodded, bright smile on his face, his heart, oddly but surely, still in turmoil.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¹: As the chapter states, that line is a direct quote from "Birdsong" by Sebastian Faulkes. Give it a read, if you have time.  
> ²: This is also a quote from "Birdsong" by Sebastian Faulkes.
> 
> And don't forget to leave a comment!


	4. A Cold Day in Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryusuke's friends were superheroes, and he loved them to death for it.

“So some stranger left a ¥100,000 piece of jewelry in front of your home with a love note and no return address, and you let Juice and the others think it was from your secret lover? Is that what you're telling us?”

“I didn't want to tell them it was from a stalker!”

Tanahashi glared while Kushida quietly simmered. “And why didn't you tell Lee?” Tanahashi gritted through his teeth. “He has a good head on his shoulders and excellent contacts; he would have immediately tracked down the sender.”

Ryusuke rolled his eyes. “Juice dropped them off at the airport right after breakfast. I wasn't about to bid them goodbye with the idea in their head that their faction leader might end up dead in an alley someday because of a serial killer.”

“Well, fuck that because I'm telling them as soon as I get texts that they landed safely in New York and Guadalajara,” Kushida snapped. “And I'm texting Juice as soon as his training at the dojo is over for the day.”

Tanahashi nodded and exhaled sharply. “This cannot stand. Are you sure you didn't slip your number to some foreigner at a club? You know, the fetishistic ones that stare at you all night but don't approach you until the house lights come on?”

Ryusuke threw them both choice middle fingers. “I do not fuck weird foreigners I meet inside clubs, you assholes, what do I look like to you?”

“A lonely forty year old man who's in desperate need of settling down before he has a complete breakdown and gets a tramp stamp tattooed above his ass,” Kushida deadpanned.

Ryusuke felt like throwing himself down a flight of stairs. He slapped his face with both hands and shook his head. “Why am I still friends with you two,” he mumbled morosely.

“Because we'd take a bullet for you.” Tanahashi smacked him on the arm. “Duh.”

“Or borrow Gedo-san's gun,” Kushida added. “Also, I was kidding, but either way, we'll protect you. Don't worry. We'll figure out who the creep is and put him out of business for good.”

And somehow, Ryusuke had no doubt Kushida could and most likely would. There was something raw, something real about Kushida that Ryusuke had yet to figure out despite many years of friendship. It dawned on him that though he'd known Tanahashi longer, Kushida had become his friend first. Taguchi Japan was a weird friend group, but a friend group nonetheless, and for someone reason, they'd all become a part of Ryusuke's heart. Once, there was a void, but now it was a patchwork of light-hearted moments and bad life advice exchanged over sake and good food. Ryusuke couldn't help but giggle. Fuck the stalker, his friends were _superheroes-_ and he loved them to death for it.

* * *

_Alex Shelley held his back straight while Kushida wrapped the thick bandages around his waist.¹ The Young Lion, Watanabe Takaaki, stood vigil by the door while they were crammed in one of the endless supply closets of Ryogoku Sumo Hall. The hubbub of the late evening show was still going strong, and if they hadn't filed into the little closet, then they would have had to deal with the pitying looks and pressing questions of their colleagues who were still littered throughout the building._

_Ryusuke was dazed, floating in a soupy purgatory where the air was thick and everything meaningless. He found that he couldn’t speak, couldn't reach out to these people who were dedicated to helping him, couldn't fathom that he'd become this weak, pathetic little creature._

“ _Taguchi-san?” Kushida asked gently. “Can you hear me?”_

_Ryusuke blinked, the pain in his chest so heavy that he thought he'd collapse underneath its weight. “Huh?”_

“ _We have to get him to a doctor,” Alex spoke urgently. “I think there's something wrong with his ribs.”_

_Kushida nodded. “We'll drive you to a clinic, OK, Taguchi-san? Just hold on. I'm going to go ask Takaaki to get you some clothes and a hoodie, and then we'll slip out the side-entrance. Alex and I will come back later to get your things.”_

_Ryusuke stared at the man kneeling in front of him. Kushida was short, a little on the nimble side, but stocky and strong. He was four years younger than Ryusuke, debuted seven years ago, and had a work ethic that was almost impossible to capture. More so, he had a soul, a wrought-iron heart that frightened Ryusuke. He knew human beings like Kushida existed, but Ryusuke had never had the pleasure of befriending someone like him. He swallowed the harsh sob in his throat and kept down the pain that flared throughout the rest of his body. Gritting his teeth, he asked,“why are you helping me?”_

_Kushida gave him a genuine smile. It wasn't like the condescending ones Devitt threw his way when he thought Ryusuke wasn't looking. “Why not?”_

_The thought hadn't occurred to Ryusuke that some people were kind simply for the sake of it._

* * *

“So you left ¥150,000 worth of jewelry in front of his door... and you didn't even ring the doorbell. Is that what you're telling me?”

He downed the entire glass of water and then pressed the cold and empty receptacle against his throbbing forehead. “Yes.”

“Fergal, what the _fuck_.”

He cringed. “I know; it looks bad.”

Kenta looked at him like he had two heads. “You left expensive jewelry in front of a person's front door with no return address. Do you know what that implies?”

“It was a _birthday_ present.”

Kenta threw a cloth napkin at his face. “Who the fuck leaves expensive presents unmanned? The _least_ you could have done was knock on the door and then slipped away. What if someone else found it and took it?”

“I wasn't thinking.”

“I fucking guessed.”

He put the glass down. “OK, you tell me how you'd have approached it.”

“Well, for one, I wouldn't have bought such an expensive present. A simple card with some well-wishes jotted down and dropped off in his mailbox would have sufficed, but certainly nothing that could have been perceived as a bloody _love_ poem left there by a stalker or Yakuza.”

“It was a quote from a _book,_ that doesn't automatically make it a _love_ poem.”

“Fergal, I swear to fuck, you've gotten dumber.”

“Don't you fookin' dare.”

“Was it the alcohol? Have you been drinking again? Explain to me how you could let yourself fuck up this badly and it hasn't even been a _week_ since you got back here.”

“... you're mean.”

This time, Kenta threw a macaroon at his head. Fergal let it smack him on the forehead and slide down to the table they were seated at. “And you're a fucking moron.”

Needless to say, Fergal didn't disagree.

* * *

Ryusuke was going to head down to a pet shelter to volunteer for a few hours after lunch, but after several threats of bodily harm, he grumpily settled down in front of Kushida's television instead. While they were squabbling over the diamond pendant, Tanahashi had slyly sent his wife a text explaining that he was staying over at Kushida's for the evening, and then Kushida and Tanahashi had forced Rysuke to stay in their sights until Taguchi Japan could do a thorough sweep of his apartment.

That was four hours ago. It was mid-April, so even at six in the evening, it was still bright and sunny outside, though Ryusuke knew it would start to darken once Juice left the dojo at 6:30. Ryusuke scoffed. Who would've thought that just the night before there had been a storm dangerous enough to drown half the universe? He hated it when it got ugly like that. He was naturally a happy person and he liked it when good vibes and good weather came his way- and yet, here he was, a day after his birthday, an expensive gift from a possible serial killer in his hands, probably left by the stranger that went away in the cab in the middle of the storm. The blue velvet box sat heavily on his fingers, even if it weighed almost nothing. He refused to wear the pendant and chain. The note was back inside the box, tucked away from sight until further notice. Ryusuke sighed. Things came to him in a fluid motion. They were important for as long as they were relevant, and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out who he had in his life that thought him so admirable that they couldn't bear the thought of giving him the gift personally.

Kushida moved around noisily in the kitchen, the sounds of pots and pans mingling with the catchy 80's American tunes Kushida had blaring from his bluetooth speaker system. Tanahashi was cutting meat out on the balcony in order to kill the smell and keep it from soiling the house. Ryusuke had offered to help, but he'd been told to rest up, as if he'd actually done something meaningful at Sakura Genesis the week before. He huffed. Tossing the velvet box on the side table, Ryusuke crossed his arm and settled back into the pillows on the couch while Kushida's dogs and cat curled around him. He guessed he'd have to make do with dwelling over vague memories while the television buzzed softly in the background, with pots clanging not too far away, and the stench of raw meat vaguely hovering above the distance. It wasn't a good idea, but he needed to think through his next few steps. Something was brewing over the horizon, and he didn't like the look of it.

He wasn't even awarded five minutes of downtime before someone began frantically ringing the doorbell. Ryusuke jumped from his seat, the pets scurrying away from him as he scrambled to turn off the television and hustle over to the entrance. The live video feed from the security cameras showed a harried Juice. He exhaled a breath of relief before manually opening the front door and then the big gate out front.

Tanahashi and Kushida came out of the kitchen prepared, both men carring big knives in their hands. Juice flew past Ryusuke and into the foyer, drawing deep breaths. Ryusuke shut the gate and front door and carefully found a spot near one of Kushida's houseplants while Juice mustered the energy to speak.

“Holy shit, guys, holy shit!”

Tanahashi wiped the bloody knife on his apron and then tucked it into one of its pockets. “You're back early.”

“Tanahashi-san, you would not BELIEVE the shit I just heard today.”

“You're not gonna believe the shit we heard today either,” Kushida deadpanned before throwing Ryusuke a judgmental look.

“Yeah, but I bet my information _totally_ beats yours!”

They hadn't told Juice the truth about the pendant yet. “Fine,” Tanahashi chuckled. “You go first.”

Juice inhaled sharply before letting out a steady stream of air. “Guess who Shibata is scheduled to defend the IWGP Heavyweight title against at Dontaku.”

“Well, we know it's not Okada,” Tanahashi mused. “Is it Goto?”

“No!”

“Okada wants a rematch already?” Kushida shook his head. “I thought he was smarter than that.”

“Think again.”

“Me!” Ryusuke thundered. “Clearly, I am worthy!”

Juice looked about ready to cry. “If it was, I would have called you instead of flying down the express lane.” He inhaled deeply. “It's a cross-promotional match, guys. We're having an outsider challenge for the title! On Shibata's first defense!”

Tanahashi blanched. “You're kidding.”

“I'm not! Some of the guys from the other promotion walked into the dojo to talk with Tiger-san.”

“What promotion?” Kushida asked carefully. “Is it Kaientai? I know Taka has contacts, but a contract that guarantees Shibata's first defense? I can't believe he has _that_ much power.”

Juice shook his head. “You wouldn't believe me if I told you, but you _have_ to, OK? You guys have to believe me.”

“We believe you,” Ryusuke said gently. He came out of his corner near the plant and rubbed Juice's shoulders. “Who's challenging Shibata first, Juice?”

Juice turned to face him. “You might remember him.”

Ryusuke scrunched his eyes. “I know him?”

“Yeah. You guys were at the same venue for one of his old matches against a member of the New Japan roster. It's Naomichi Marufuji, Taguchi-san. Pro-Wrestling NOAH and New Japan have joined hands again.”

* * *

Kenta had both hands in his pockets, a pair of aviators on his face shielding him from the dying rays of the sun. They were waiting for the valet to bring up Kenta's car so he could drop Fergal off at his hotel. His apartment wasn't ready yet, and wouldn't be for another week.

“Shiozaki and Kotoge went to the dojo to speak with Hattori today.”

Fergal adjusted his leather jacket and his own sunglasses. “Did they sign the contracts?”

“Signed and sealed. Umino was there to witness. Nakajima will go public with the news on his Ameblo and Twitter tonight. Next week, we're going to throw a hero's welcome at the dojo for Marufuji since he'll be back from Germany by then. You should join us.”

“... I'll wait until the moment's right.”

“Your own contract has already been signed. What's the point of keeping quiet?”

“I don't want to make waves.”

Kenta snorted. “Don't think yourself omnipotent, Fergal. You know what happened the last time you tried that.”

Fergal didn't respond. The car rolled up shortly after, and he quietly got into the passenger's seat. Some time into their drive, Fergal turned to look at the man wearing a slimfit maroon suit with diamond cufflinks pressed snugly against his wrists. “Why are you still helping me?”

Kenta shrugged. “You looked like you needed a friend.”

“We barely knew each other before...”

“Before you sold you soul?” Kenta finished for him. “Don't worry. We all did what he had to do. That doesn't make us bad people. It just makes us human.”

“Human,” Fergal mumbled. “It makes me human.”

The drive to the hotel wasn't long, but Fergal felt as if he'd aged twenty years.

* * *

When Ryusuke went to bed in Kushida's guest room that night, he thought about Marufuji Naomichi. He was about his age and a handsome fellow. A long time ago, he and Ryusuke had shared a few drinks and some philosophical chatter in a hotel bar after a match Ryusuke barely remembered. He was at the venue that night for a reason, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember why. That hotel was also important at the time, but now it didn't hold any pertinence. Ryusuke sighed.

“Stop thinking so hard,” Tanahashi groused from the futon over.

“But I'm dwelling,” Ryusuke whined. “Let me dwell in peace, damn it.”

Tanahashi chucked a small pillow at his head. Ryusuke caught it before it could smack him in the face and held onto it dearly. “This is my wife now, also my husband. I'm going to love and cherish it until I die.”

Tanahashi rolled his eyes, but his next words were soft, almost gentle. “You need a real person to devote yourself to, Ryusuke.”

Ryusuke shrugged, clutching the pillow closer. “I'm not exactly at an age where I can have my choice of lovers, Tana.”

“You're not that old. If anything, you look like you haven't aged in five years.”

“Doesn't make me any less of an old man,” Ryusuke chuckled warmly. “But it's OK. I know the life I'm leading isn't exactly the most reasonable for a man who could lose his livelihood in any given match, but it's my life at the end of the day.”

He remembered dark days in a hospital where he lay alone and in pain as the surgeries piled up and the shame didn't go away. He was little more than a corpse at that moment, with no friends, no family, not even a pet that would miss him if he were to pass away in the operating room. And yet, those dark days were long gone, and he'd worked painstakingly hard to ensure that he never felt that way ever again. Parts of him had receded completely into the recesses of his memory, while others replaced the weaker parts and built up something stronger, much more palpable in his psyche. He was much stronger now than he was when he was twenty-five, and he knew, should he try his hardest, he could easily climb the ladder to the top of the junior heavyweight scene once again.

But at forty, there were other things to consider- savings, royalties from the promotion and the TV media he'd done over the years, sales income of the music he'd made and sold, the prize money he'd won in the matches, and the regular checks that streamed in when he fought in a match but didn't make the cut. Putting all of that together, Ryusuke realized he could quit now and live comfortably into his eighties, and yet, he knew he wouldn't. He loved what he did, and he'd die in the ring before he died anywhere else.

“Ryu?”

“Hmm?”

“We have to tell Juice and the others about the pendant. It's not safe at your apartment until we let the rest of the team know and set out feelers.”

“OK,” Ryusuke conceded. “I'll let you and Kushida talk to them. I don't think I'll be able to bring anything useful to the table.”

“Your life could be in danger!” Tanahashi was flabbergasted.

“And if it is, you guys will protect me,” Ryusuke teased. “I know you will.” Tanahashi huffed but didn't respond. “I trust you guys more than anyone else in this world. Whatever happens, I know you won't let me get hurt.”

That seemed to quell the worries in Tanahashi's heart for the time being. Soon, their breathing evened out, and Tanahashi's light snores drifted through the air, mingling with the gentle breeze coming through an open window.

That night, Ryusuke dreamt of piercing blue eyes and woke up screaming.

* * *

And yet, the screams prompted by his nightmare were forgotten by the time Shibata Katsuyori pinned Marufui Naomichi and prompted all of NOAH's aces to come out into the arena. He sat primly at the announce table with Tanahashi and Kushida, discussing the mechanics of the match and the future New Japan and what the partnership with NOAH held for the future. The match ended and the bell resounded. It should have been a standing ovation, for the match went on for forty-seven minutes and drew blood from both sides.

And yet, in the heat of the moment, Kenta's music hit. Ryusuke heart jumped in his throat, but he still sat, one hand clutching a mic stand fiercely as a man in a slimfit blue suit calmly walked down the entrance aisle and then into the ring where Marufuji clutched his bruised abdomen and Shibata sat with his IWGP heavyweight championship belt in front of him. The other NOAH men gathered Marufuji in their arms and quietly helped him out of the ring while Shibata finally stood up and publicly stood face to face against Kenta for the first time in years.

And then, they hugged.

Tears sprang in Ryusuke's eyes and he couldn't, for the life of him, stop himself from breaking into a watery smile. Tanahashi crowed with laughter while Kushida and the rest of the commentary team breathed sighs of relief. Kenta clutched Shibata's head and planted a chaste kiss on his forehead before Shibata buried his face in his friend's neck and sobbed audibly.

It should have ended there. It should have ended when Kenta and Shibata joined hands and raised them up towards the crowd and the cameras. It should have ended when Tanahashi shook hands with Shiozaki, when Okada and Nakajima glared daggers into each other but kept their rage to themselves for the sake of their mentors, when Atsushi Kotoge caught the eye of one Hiromu Takahashi who leered dangerously from the corner where the Ingobernables watched the theatrics with molten rage in their eyes. It was supposed to end when the streamers fell down and showered Shibata with something to roll around in while the crowd cheered and NOAH and New Japan laughed.

It should have ended while Ryusuke tried to slip out of sight and backstage so he could pack up and head home since he was less than a two hour drive away from his apartment. But someone grabbed onto his wrist. When Ryusuke turned around, there was an unadulterated rage in Kushida's eyes that had bubbled to the surface in the seconds his attention had been turned away. His eyes followed to Tanahashi who sported an equally savage glare, while Juice and Ricochet stood next to each other with confused looks. Ryusuke rubbed away stray tears with his wrist and tried to figure out where these damn reactions were coming from, and frantically wondered if Taichi was sitting somewhere in the audience with a mallet in his hand.

But when Ryusuke's eyes traveled over to where Kushida's were intensely focused on, he found a lone figure hidden safely away from the audience's sight and visible only to the commentary team that was looking up. No one from the crowd was focused on the man standing on the balcony that had a vibrant CHAOS banner tethered to its block. Ryusuke wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for his friend. He sincerely wished he hadn't looked up, wished he'd pushed Kushida's hand away and slipped out the back like he originally planned.

But he looked up- he looked up and saw Prince Devitt standing alone and away from humanity below. He thought about the pendant he kept locked away in his cupboard and never dared to wear, thought about the note tucked inside the blue velvet box.

“I saw the great void in your soul, and you saw mine,” Ryusuke mumbled softly.

Kushida didn't let go of his wrist while Tanahashi caught his eye and spoke harshly. “Ryu,” he implored, brown eyes pained, “Ryu, don't.”

And then the floodgates opened, and pain mixed with shame kicked him square in the chest. He flared his nostrils, smacked his face, and shook the sob from his throat. “Mother _fucker,_ ” he rasped. He glared at the creature on the balcony, a demon he no longer considered a person, much less a friend. “The fucking _nerve._ ”

Suddenly, the pendant became a cursed item, and the blue eyes that haunted his dreams came to life. Fergal Devitt walked away from the balcony before anyone could get a closer look at him, and Ryusuke swore, from the bottom of his heart, that it'd be a cold day in hell before he let Prince Devitt ruin his life again.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¹: Prince Devitt betrayed Ryusuke Taguchi on April 7, 2013 at Invasion Attack 2013. It was right after they lost to the Time Splitters, Kushida and Alex Shelley, failing to regain the IWGP junior heavyweight tag team titles from their rivals.
> 
> As for Pro Wrestling NOAH and NJPW, they had excellent feud that took place over a number of shows, but ended prematurely at King of Pro Wrestling 2016 due to a number of reasons. I'm making them join hands here because I'm a lowkey pacifist and want the Four Promotions to live in peace and harmony (and occasionally trade talent and put on supercard shows). If you're interested in NOAH, required watching includes Naomichi Marufuji, our Ace Katsuhiko Nakajima, KENTA, and the second, and upcoming Ace, Atsushi Kotoge. However, if you don't watch NOAH and don't want to, that won't be a problem. The only NOAH character that will show up frequently is Kenta, WWE's Hideo Itami, and that's cuz Fergal aint got no friends but him.
> 
> As per usual, remember to leave a comment! Thank you for reading! :D


	5. A Storm at Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sport was a part of Ryusuke's heart. He was a fighter, and he'd tumble until his hip was fully crushed, his knees shot, and his face a pulpy mess. He wasn't a God, or a King, or even an icon, but he was something very few people achieved in their life- he was a human being.

At a house show in Osaka, the New Japan Cup competitors were announced. The Cup was scheduled to take place in June of that fateful summer, the winner of the tournament set to challenge at Dominion 6.22. Tanahashi, Kushida, and Juice were all announced, along with El Desperado, Zack Sabre Jr. and several other heavyweights that had rose to prominence over the years. Atsushi Kotoge was being sent over as a representative of NOAH, while several other names were filtering in from the likes of DDT Pro-Wrestling and All Japan.

Ryusuke wasn't scheduled to fight that evening in Osaka, so it was by phone call that he found out that the sixteenth, and final, competitor announced was none other than Prince Devitt.

* * *

“I take my wife and kid on a vacation for one month, and this is what happens?”

Tanahashi nodded morosely and took a long swig of his beer. “We didn't even get a heads up. He was just... there. And now he's scheduled to fight in the tournament. They _cheered_ for him, Michael, acted as if they were welcoming home a hero instead of a betrayer. Ryusuke doesn't deserve this, goddamn it, there was a _reason_ why that match forced one of them to retire.”

Big Mike shook his head. “This can't stand. If management wants to backtrack on what was decided five years ago, then so be it, but he's not getting anywhere near the belts, the tourney cups, and _especially_ not anywhere near Ryusuke.”

“We'll protect him,” Tanahashi agreed. “It took a long time for us to find each other- we can't let someone like Devitt ruin this one good thing that came out of all these years of suffocating underneath bad management practice. They never wanted any of us to be friends, only rivals.”

“Well, management can suck it,” Big Mike grumbled. “At the end of the day, the best man comes out the victor, not some company-backed asshole.”

Tanahashi managed a smile. They clinked glasses and quietly drank their beers. Some miles away, another storm began to brew.

* * *

Taguchi was good at ignoring people. He had a knack for it, really. He could compartmentalize better than most of his peers, knew when to and when not to take things personally, and could put his mind in a place that wouldn't harm his ability to function in the ring or at home. He'd been good at it for a long time, a skill he'd discovered when he was a Young Lion, and eventually perfected over the course of his career.

There was only one period in his life when his defense mechanisms were nearly nonexistent. Those years were tumultuous, but Ryusuke was happy. He was happier than he'd ever been, side by side with someone who made him feel whole, made him feel as if he didn't need to protect himself from the big, bad world because _he_ would be there to help him. Of course, that all ended in a disaster that almost invoked a beast to crawl out of his chest, along with a broken hip, several months in the hospital, and an eventual return that was mired with conflict and evoked hatred.

So much hatred- there was a part of Ryusuke that loathed as much as he loved. He hated having to be that way during that time, but the monster he once called hie friend provoked that reaction from him. And it was the truth- he hated Prince Devitt. He hated Prince Devitt almost as much as he once hated himself.

But he was an adult, and as a man who mentored young bloods, Ryusuke knew that he couldn't let that rage bubble to the surface ever again. He wasn't Kushida, who loved as fiercely as he destroyed. He wasn't Tanahashi, who was only kind to you if you were kind to him, and utterly vicious if you were to even _think_ of turning your back on him. He wasn't Big Mike, with his cool head, and equally cool demeanor. No- Ryusuke was kind because he wanted to set an example for the Young Lions, wanted to teach them that love and kindness was a road that was just as worthy as discipline and determination. He had trained in a dojo that still had remnants of the their founder¹, and while their treatment had only managed to make Tanahashi more determined to change New Japan and create a better and more loving place for posterity, it encouraged other things in the men of their particular class.

Goto grew up to be reserved, a traditional man with his own traditional family, fiercely loving and equally loyal to his friends. Shibata had ruined his marriage and almost gotten himself killed, but Goto, Kenta, and anyone else he deemed close to him, were forever his to protect and love, and that's why he pulled through the surgeries and the eventual recovery. Nakamura had taken the torture and turned it into an art. Stripping himself of their founder's influence, he became a god not only in the ring, but one who's mere presence on the street would make you think twice. He was, after all, the King of Strong Style.

Tanahashi had become the Ace, and even though people sang Okada's and Kushida's praises today, Ryusuke knew that if Tanahashi ever decided turn on the very crowd that he once dominated, the company would collapse. Tanahashi had promised everyone that he was going to change things, and he did, and he was still at it. If he turned, then so would the crowd. That was another thing Tanahashi invoked- love and loyalty. If you followed Tanahashi, you followed him to the death, and you did it because you knew he'd die for you. Tanahashi could be a demon or an angel, but at the end of the day, it didn't matter. He was their God, and he was a God that could love as savagely as he could punish.

And then there was Ryusuke. Maybe, somewhere in Mexico, he was a bit of an asshole, but he couldn't keep to it². Ryusuke _liked_ loving, he liked caring for people. The founder's only imprint on him were the scars that he'd accumulated over years of training. In Ryusuke, there was a heart. He liked using that heart. Once, long ago, he thought he wasn't made for this world, wasn't made for the daily grind of waking up with the dawn to go train at a dojo, wasn't made for taking abuse from elders who cared only for the sport and not a single bit about the human beings that _made_ the sport, wasn't fit to be a Musketeer like Tanahashi, Shibata, and Nakamura were.

But Ryusuke was wrong. The sport was a part of his heart. He was a _fighter,_ and he'd tumble until his hip was fully crushed, his knees shot, and his face a pulpy mess. He wasn't a God, or a King, or even an icon, but he was something very few people achieved in their life- he was a human being.

For Ryusuke, being a wrestler was akin to being the most human of creatures, someone who toed the line between life and death because _that's_ what living was all about. Otherwise, he was better off floating in the sea. If life was ephemeral, then Ryusuke had no time to hesitate. He had to do it, or he had to die, and he chose to do it. Prince Devitt broke a piece of him, but he didn't kill him, and so he came back stronger, better, faster.

And so he ignored him. Prince Devitt was a relic of the past, and so what if he was back? He was just another man in a sea full of strangers. Ryusuke didn't have to acknowledge him unless he absolutely had to, and since Ryusuke was still a dedicated junior heavyweight, there was no reason to confront Prince Devitt since the man had debuted as heavyweight this time around. Ryusuke decided that this was the life he was meant to lead- a life where he kept moving forward, a life where he left behind the things and people who hurt him the most.

Ryusuke was lifting weights in his local gym when he heard the thunder reverberate through the concrete walls of the small facility. He carefully placed the weights back in their resting place before wiping his face with a Taguchi Japan towel. Grabbing his things, he made his way to the exit. Outside, it poured, and Ryusuke didn't have an umbrella.

Something inside him ached, but for the life of him, he didn't know why.

* * *

“What if the asshole tries to hurt him again?” Annoyance dripped from Juice's words as the rest of the men sighed and settled in.

“I say we jump the fucker and throw him on a plane back to whatever dumpster he crawled out of,” Kushida drawled, carefully filing his nails and keeping his rage in check.

“But if Management offered him another contract, then any retaliation outside of a wrestling venue is illegal,” Alex Shelley said softly from a laptop screen.

“I can't believe we didn't know,” Juice sighed. “I mean, we knew about Apollo 55, but I thought they'd patched things up after the fight at Invasion.”

Big Mike scoffed. “Shaking hands with the enemy after being betrayed in public after four years of partnership, and then having to suffer another _year_ of asshole-ish tactics by the same perpetrator is basically a divorced couple agreeing to call a truce in front of their lawyers. Just because it looks nice on paper doesn't mean it's nice in real life.”

“They had to shake hands,” Tanahashi gritted through his teeth. “If they didn't, then who knows what else Devitt might have done. He was an animal by that point. You had to validate him at every single turn, or he'd bite you.”

“Being the creator of Bullet Club and all,” David said morosely from an iPad screen. “He was... evil, I think. There was something cruel about him, the way he acted that year, like he'd stripped himself of his humanity or something.”

“He was cruel, alright,” Ricochet sighed. “That entire faction was something else.”

“It was evil,” Kushida snarled. He turned to the laptop where Alex was conference-calling from. “You remember what he did, don't you? We fought fair and square against them that night, _Ryusuke_ fought fair and square. We should have left with handshakes, not a public beatdown by a psychopath and his hired muscle.”

“I say we kick his teeth in after a match,” Juice noted. “Teach him a lesson, let him know that Taguchi Japan isn't fucking around.”

Tanahashi took deep breaths, trying to quell the emotions in his chest. “We can't do that to Ryusuke. He's worked.... very hard to let Devitt go.”

“Were they lovers?” David asked softly.

Kushida broke into peals of bitter laughter. “Hell no. Devitt had a new girl every night, since the dorms didn't allow one every hour. Ryusuke was only his tag-team partner, not his friend, and _definitely_ not his lover.”

“But it wouldn't be wrong to assume that Taguchi-san may have once loved this man,” Dragon Lee countered another laptop screen. “Devitt may not have cared about him, but Taguchi-san seemed to care about him very much.”

Kushida froze while Tanahashi inhaled sharply. Alex turned his face away while Juice and Ricochet both stared at Lee open-mouthed, with shock written on both of their faces. Dragon Lee was calm and composed, as per usual, but there was a look of determination in his eyes, and a calculating glint that spelled chaos for whoever crossed him.

“Maybe in the past,” Big Mike sighed, “but not anymore. Loving someone is difficult, but letting go is even harder. Yet, Ryusuke managed it, and _because_ he managed it, we owe it to him to steer clear of this monster.”

A tear escaped Tanahashi's eye, and he didn't bother to wipe it away. “ We're going to let him be- for Ryusuke's sake. There's no reason to fuel a fire that's already been quenched.”

“I see embers,” Kushida warned. “I saw the pain on his face. For now, I'll let it be, but if Devitt tries anything-”

“-then I'll end his career myself,” Tanahashi interrupted. “If he even _thinks_ of getting in Ryusuke's way, then he's done. If he doesn’t bother Ryusuke, we won’t bother him, but if he tries anything, then all bets are off.”

“As it should be,” Big Mike nodded.

“I'm gonna kick his teeth in when we tussle,” Juice said while cracking his knuckles.

“I'm going to work double the dates to finish my contract here and then fly back back,” David announced.

“And I'll be flying in next week for Best of the Super Juniors,” Dragon Lee noted.

“Then it's settled,” Tanahashi announced. “Counsel's adjourned for now, men. I'll see some of you at the next house show, and goodbye to the rest of you.”

They said their goodbyes, and the men who'd conference-called in turned off their computers and disappeared off the screens. Kushida and Juice shut off the laptops and iPad, and packed them away while Big Mike poured healthy cups of whiskey. The Canadian rubbed the bridge of his nose while Tanahashi tiredly walked over to the kitchen counter that hosted several cups of whisky.

“You think he's gonna try anything, Hiroshi?” Big Mike asked worriedly.

Tanahashi sighed. “I don't know, Mike. I hope not, but if he does... then we have to do what has to be done. This world- it doesn't belong to Prince Devitt and his lapdogs.”

Big Mike nodded. “It belongs to us- to Ryusuke, and me, and you, and Juice, and even Suzuki-gun.”

“It belongs to us,” Tanhashi agreed, “and if Prince Devitt wants something that's rightfully ours, he's going to have to kill us to get it.”

* * *

The first round of the New Japan Cup tournament began four days after the first night of the Best of the Super Juniors 26 tournament. Taguchi was participating in the juniors' tournament, like he did every year. Management had told him it was OK if he opted out of showing up to the New Japan Cup shows, but Ryusuke persisted. He did a preliminary tag match with some of the Young Lions, and pinned a scrawny twenty-three year old by the name of Hirasawa Kentaro. He shook the young man's hand afterwards, proud of the effort they both put in.

Kushida and Tanahashi won their matches and moved to the next round, while Juice tapped out to El Desperado. Ryusuke and the others comforted Juice, reminding him that this wasn't the end. Naito pinned Kotoge, and afterwards, Hiromu came out and licked the man's face before Go Shiozaki stormed into the ring and ran them off. Shiozaki carried the younger man out of the arena on his back, his eyes burning with hatred while Naito Tetsuya cackled and Takahashi Hiromu watched with something akin to lust in his eyes.

Ryusuke watched from the monitor inside the locker room as Ishii eliminated Devitt from the New Japan Cup in the first round's main event. The crowd cheered on the Stone Pitbull as Devitt lay prone on the mat, eyes wide open and fixed on the ceiling, breathing heavily and unwilling to rise after two consecutive brainbusters. Ryusuke turned away, unwilling to let himself feel the pain he knew would never truly go away.

Dragon Lee led the year's Best of the Super Juniors, and Ryusuke couldn't have been prouder. They tag teamed against a pair of Young Lions on the second round of the New Japan Cup. After their bout, they saw the arrival of three NOAH stars who tagged against a trio of Young Lions. After the NOAH men won, they went on the mic and angrily claimed the Ingobernables had crossed a line when Takahashi Hiromu licked Kotoge's face after Naito defeated him. That brought Takahashi Hiromu out to the ring with a bouquet of flowers. Kotoge had not come with the NOAH stars, but Takahashi left the flowers at Shiozaki's feet, telling him to give them to Kotoge as an apology for his transgressions.

Ryusuke knew it was a diversion, but he couldn't tell that to Shiozaki, not when he was backstage and too far away to warn the man of the demons stalking their roster. The rest of the Ingobernables crawled out from underneath the ring and attacked the NOAH men while Takahashi dribbled lies into the mic. The spectacle ended with Hiromu stuffing flowers down Shiozaki's throat and screaming at the NOAH stars to tell Kotoge that he was coming to claim him, that he'd laid eyes on him first, that he was Takahashi's and no one else's. Ryusuke shuddered. The Young Lions that cleared the ring of the flowers and spit were visibly shook, but there was nothing to be done. In life, there were monsters, and the monsters that prowled their ring today were Los Ingobernables de Japon.

Prince Devitt tagged with two Young Lions against Juice, Tiger Mask IV, and another Young Lion next. Ryusuke considered going out to support Juice, but Kushida stopped him and claimed he would go out to ringside in Ryusuke's place. Ryusuke looked at his friend, a man who was undoubtedly the scariest heavyweight on the roster. Shibata Katsuyori was scary because he was tall, dark, and handsome in the traditional sense, but Kushida oozed grace and good feelings when he was happy. When he was angry, he broke you in half and left you to rot in your own piss. If Shibata wasn't on his guard, his IWGP heavyweight belt would end up around Kushida's waist. Ryusuke conceded and stayed behind.

Ryusuke watched from the TV monitors backstage as Devitt pinned their Young Lion for the win. Kushida, Juice, and Tiger Mask IV helped the Young Lion out of the ring while Devitt and the other two Lions had their hands raised by the referee.

And then, the shitstorm began. Ryusuke's heart jumped to his throat, and he balked as Nick and Matt Jackson ran out and attacked Prince Devitt and the Young Lions. The Young Bucks only got in a couple of hits though, because not a minute into the attack, and Prince Devitt started to fight back. He fought back, and he made them _run._

“Welcome back to the fuckhouse, _Boss,_ ” Matt Jackson crowed into a mic once he and his brother were a healthy distance away. “We have a couple of more surprises for you! Don't worry, brother, you're gonna _love them_.”

The crowd booed the Bucks out of the arena while Fergal seethed quietly in the ring. The whole time, Kushida and Juice watched quietly from the side, not making a single move to interfere in the Bucks' savage attack. Once the Bucks had disappeared into the back, Prince Devitt turned and made eye contact with Kushida and Juice, but none of the three men made an effort to confront the other.

In the end, Kushida and Juice walked out of the arena, and finally, Prince Devitt rolled out of the ring and stormed angrily down the opposite exit.

Fear- all Ryusuke felt was cold, hard fear.

* * *

Fergal felt the panic attack come before he could lock the bathroom door. Still, he managed to click the latch in place before sliding down against the wall opposite the door. He hung his head between his knees and tried counting to twenty with each breath. He didn't feel anger, no. Instead, the Demon inside screamed in agony, torturing him into submission, leaving him weaker than a newly birthed faun.

He felt the tears come, but made no move to wipe them away. They streamed freely down his face. He thought about how much he'd been trying, how much effort he'd been putting in to just do it _right_ this time around, to not fuck up so badly, but here he was, less than a month into his second debut in New Japan, and he was already falling apart. He wanted to reach out to the man who purposefully ignored him. He wanted the Demon to stop crying. He wanted _himself_ to not be a broken piece of garbage for once in his life.

Now the Elite had found him. He thought about a bar not too far away, a bar that served real Irish brandy, and thought about drinking the place dry. Then he remembered he'd been sober for over a year, and _then_ he remembered that Kenta would murder him and throw his body in a river if he ever took another sip alcohol ever again. He cracked a smile, envisioning an angry Kenta smacking him upside the head and dragging him by the hair to the nearest sobriety clinic. He felt the panic attack begin to recede as he imagined his friends back in America, back in Ireland, his friends around the world who wanted him to thrive, to _live._ Fergal let out a quiet sob. It'll be OK, he thought. He was trying really hard this time- it _had_ to be OK.

A gentle knock broke Fergal out of his reverie, and he looked tiredly at the door he'd locked. He sighed, remembering that he'd locked himself away in a public restroom, and that the person knocking was being nice by knocking gently.

“One second,” he said in a hoarse voice. He picked himself off the ground and sighed at the fact that he was still in his black trunks and boots. The restroom was air-conditioned, eliciting a shudder from his exposed skin. After he was sure that there were no more tears on his face, he opened the latch and apologized profusely to the person who'd been patiently knocking.

He locked eyes with the IWGP heavyweight champion himself.

“Shibata,” Fergal croaked.

“Hey, asshole,” Shibata drawled. “Mind if I join you in your depression fest?”

Fergal gulped. “... sure.”

Shibata nodded, side-stepping Fergal and taking in the public restroom. Then he locked the door and faced Fergal. “Of all the places to cry, you chose a restroom? There was a perfectly good supply closet down the hall.”

Fergal let out a dry chuckle. “I'll keep that in mind next time.”

“Please do, you look like a pervert hanging out in a bathroom with nothing but trunks and boots on.”

Fergal took a sharp breath, collecting himself before speaking again. “Can I help you, Shibata?”

Shibata shook his head. “No, actually.”

Fergal gave him a confused look. “Then why-”

“-I love Kenta more than I hate most people,” Shibata interrupted him. “Do you understand that? Do you understand that I'm only alive today because my friends never gave up on me and wanted me to keep breathing while they cut my skull open and fixed my brain? Do you understand that, Devitt?”

Fergal thought about his friend, the NOAH star that took WWE's awful tenure in exchange for enough money to keep his family fed and clothed well beyond retirement. Kenta had done it for his wife and children. Shinsuke did it for his wife and for his career. Machine Gun did it for his wife and children. Everyone had someone who meant more than the world, meant so much that traveling halfway across the world was nothing to them.

Fergal lost to Taguchi Ryusuke on April 6, 2014. On April 9, he was on a plane back to Ireland. On April 17, he was back on a plane, but this time to the States. Now it was May 15, 2019. He wished the dates blurred, became fragmented pieces of his psyche, but they were as clear as day. He still remembered the look of disgust on that man's face, that man who begrudgingly shook his hand one final time, that man who hadn't once approached him these few weeks he'd made his presence known.

Fergal remembered, each memory as crystal clear as the ones next to it, the ones before it, the ones that were still forming. He remembered the shape of that man's waist, the curve of his spine, and warmth of his fingers. When they had fought together, they had fought at their best. There was a song in their movements, a joviality that went unmatched. Not even the Golden Lovers could shake their faith in each other. When the Motor City Machine Guns finally bowed, Fergal's heart had crawled to his throat, and he felt nothing but raw happiness. The wars came and went, from the Time Splitters, to the Forever Hooligans, to the Kaientai boys, to the veterans, and onwards until they finally-

They finally what? _They_ didn't do anything. It was all Fergal from the start. It was Fergal on April 7, 2013³, and it was Fergal again on April 6, 2014⁴. It was _Fergal_ who left a diamond pendant, a chain, and a note on that man's doorstep on April 15, 2019. There was no “they.” The concept of their shared lives ended when Fergal hit that man with a lariat, and then jumped off the top turnbuckle to destroy his lungs and crush whatever was left of their friendship.

All that remained was Fergal in one world and that man in another.

“Let that shame teach you something,” Shibata said softly. “Let it remind you what _not_ to do next time. Don't worry, asshole. Someday, this pain will be useful to you⁵.”

Fergal wiped the stray tears from his eyes. These days, he couldn't quite control him like he used to. “Kenta sent you.”

Shibata gave him a dirty look. “No one _sends_ me, asshole. I came because Kenta was worried, and I don't like my friends worrying.”

Fergal chuckled drily. “So you're here to babysit me.”

Shibata clicked his tongue. “I only babysit Hirooki's and Kenta's kids. No, asshole, I'm not gonna waste my time trying to take care of you. I'm here to tell you that you have thirty minutes to get showered, dressed, and get outside through the utility exit at the west end of the venue. There's a car waiting to take us to Kenta's house. He has the guest bedroom already set up for us, so if anyone's doing the babysitting, it's his poor wife who's gonna have to watch over three grown manchildren along with the children she already has.” Shibata shook his head morosely. “God bless her soul.”

Fergal couldn't stop himself from breaking out into full blown laughter. He clutched his sides, bruised from the match and from the Bucks' attack, and when his legs almost collapsed beneath him from the force of his laughter, Shibata caught him by the arm and slung it over his shoulder. They didn't say anything to each other while they lumbered over to the locker room, avoiding eye contact with the peering eyes of New Japan personnel and the remnants of the roster that had yet to go home.

It should have ended there. Fergal should have been able to shower, get dressed, and get into a car that would take him far away from the venue, the Bucks, and everything else that made that ache in his chest that much more painful. He wanted to talk his friend- _friends._ He wanted to tell Shibata he was sorry, that he wasn't the worst person on Earth, that he had changed, that the poison he drank in New Japan that fateful year had long since dissipated. He wasn't a bad person- only human.

But when he got outside, the car wasn't there, but Taguchi Ryusuke was. Fergal froze, legs stiff in their place, skin cold as he hadn't brought a jacket, the late spring evening unforgiving.

That man stood next to his gear bag, quietly looking down at his phone, unaware that Fergal had stepped out. He was dressed in faded jeans, a blue shirt, and a black cardigan that was perfect for the weather. His sneakers were damaged, but serviceable. His hair was thick, full, and wet. The thick waves were cropped right above his neck, while his beard and mustache were neatly trimmed. His bangs were messy, but the chaos framed his face beautifully. He looked the same as he did five years ago, that same small smile ever present on his lips, the picture of serenity, almost as if he'd walked out of Fergal's past.

Something made him laugh, and Fergal inhaled sharply. The full smile that bloomed on Taguchi Ryusuke's face was complimented by his dimples and the softness of his face. Fergal knew he should have turned around and disappeared then, but he couldn't turn back. He took one step forward, and Taguchi Ryusuke picked up his head and looked straight into his eyes.

The smile slipped from his face, and then came the rain.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¹: This is referring to Antonio Inoki and the allegations that the NJPW dojo pre-current administration was riddled with abuse, violence, degrading hazing rituals, etc. If you want to do further research on this, I suggest hunting down Tanahashi's book, Makabe's testimonials, along with Shibata's, and anyone else who trained through and survived New Japan Pro Wrestling's worst period.  
> ²: Taguchi was a heel during his excursion to Mexico.  
> ³: Invasion Attack 2013, when Prince Devitt betrayed Taguchi Ryusuke after losing to the Time Splitters.  
> ⁴: Invasion Attack 2014, when Prince Devitt lost to Taguchi Ryusuke and was forced to retire from the promotion.  
> ⁵: A quote by Roman poet, Ovid.
> 
> As per usual, don't forget to leave your fellow author a lovely note! :D


	6. A Comedy of Disasters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryusuke stifled the sob in his throat. They loved him, even after he betrayed Ryusuke. They loved him, even when Ryusuke defeated him. He'd never win, not with him three feet away and on the same tour bus, the same hotel, the same world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title was changed!!! "A Howl that Ebbs and Flows" is now "Shards of a Fool's Diamond." Thank you for your patience!!

“Tagu-”

“-oh, for fuck's sake,” Ryusuke groused audibly. He knew the light drizzle would soon become thick sheets of endless cold needles, so after a few grumbles and hushed curses, he bustled over to the exit from which Devitt had appeared. He tried pulling the handle, but it had automatically locked when the latter had come out. He felt the urge to break down the door, but his body ached, his ears buzzed with the light tapping of the rain, and he remembered that fate was a bigger bastard than Taichi would ever be.

He begrudgingly stood underneath the thin sheet of tin that hung over the exit, as it shielded him from the rain, but at the cost of forcing him to stand less than three feet away from the man he considered his mortal enemy when Taichi wasn't in the vicinity. He still had his ego, even if his dignity had been shot to hell years ago, so he pointedly ignored the shorter man.

Devitt cleared his throat and tried again. “Taguchi, plea-”

Ryusuke snorted. “It's almost midnight- what in the _everloving_ fuck do you want?”

Devitt looked taken aback, birthing a rotten sort of glee in Ryusuke's heart. It wasn't often that one had the pleasure of seeing the real Rock-n-Rolla look aghast, especially not in the dead of night, and yet, there was a first time for everything. Ryusuke wanted nothing more than to go back to the hotel and sleep off his anxiety, but here he was, staring at the mothership of all of his insecurities in the flesh, haunting his person even after he'd done everything in his power to avoid it.

Devitt's eyes were even eerier up close. Once, long ago, there was something warm and gentle about them that made Ryusuke think of the open sea. Then they became harbingers of death, beastly orbs that thought people like Ryusuke were expendable and unnecessary in the grander scheme of things. A rocky cliff existed at the end of the world, and if that icy blue glare told someone to jump, they jumped. Ryusuke had done so enough times to know what lay beneath the surface of the cold, dark water. They were beautiful eyes, after all.

Devitt started again. “I'm sorry. I know you're not interested in a damn thing I have to say, but I just want you to know- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

Ryusuke cackled. It was an ugly sort of laugh, the kind that was off-putting to the public, and even harsher in private. It was raspy, a shrill sound that made bystanders give him pointed looks, a screech so dreadful that he rarely ever allowed himself to do it. When he finally managed to stifle the noise, he glared with such hatred that he thought he would burst into flames. “This wasn't part of the deal,” he gritted through his teeth.

“I know; I know and I'm sorry.”

Ryusuke couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face, etching his features with the bitter hatred that he'd suppressed over the years. “You can stop apologizing and put in your resignation papers tomorrow morning. Don't worry, I'll let the roster know that this was all a fluke, and that really, you're just here temporarily to pull in a bigger draw. You walk away right now, and I'll forget this ever happened.”

Devitt closed his eyes and relaxed his features. “I can't do that. This is my home, and I'm not leaving again.”

Ryusuke could have punched him if he hadn't already promised himself that he wouldn't. “Do you think this is a fucking game? I ended your career in this country. I did it in front of a full house. Don't think for even a _second_ that I wouldn't do it again.”

Devitt inhaled sharply. “That won't happen again. What I did was wrong, unforgivable even, but I'm not that kind of person anymore. I didn't come back here to cause you trouble- I came back to earn my place. I want to live again, Taguchi, and I came here to do just that.” His eyes glistened pitifully in the dim hue of the sodium bulbs that illuminated their first face-to-face contact in five years.

Ryusuke sneered. Devitt hadn't aged well. His eyes were sunken into his flesh, as if he hadn't slept properly in months. His beard was thick and full, but unkempt enough that the hairs on his neck and face made him look more like an animal than a man. He wore ill-fitted clothes and uncomfortable-looking shoes. Ryusuke snorted. Once upon a time, he'd been kind, gentle even. He'd been a devil before Ryusuke was forced to interact with him closely, but once he walked into Ryusuke's life as a tag-team partner, things seemed to have changed in the man.¹ Ryusuke had truly believed he'd become more generous, and the world believed it too. And yet, with things of this nature, Ryusuke realized that it was all just a part of the scheme. Devitt went right back to being what he was when he was green and angry and vicious- a greasy, uncouth, unloving bastard. After he'd created his little Club, it was as if something inside of him had become free. He oozed sickness and mayhem. A beady-eyed creature that stalked the roster for its riches and the promotion's recognition, that was one Prince Devitt. He was a plague for most, and yet, at the end of the day, he was beloved by the audience.

Ryusuke stifled the sob in his throat. They loved him, even after he betrayed Ryusuke. They loved him, _even when Ryusuke defeated him._ He'd never win, not with him three feet away and on the same tour bus, the same hotel, _the same world._ He was supposed to be on the other side of the planet, away from Ryusuke for good. They were never meant to cross paths again. That last handshake was a gentleman's agreement- they'd never do each other the disservice of showing up in each other's lives ever again. They'd walked away from each other, just like Devitt had once walked away from him.

“I'll kill you,” Ryusuke said softly. “If you come near me again, I'll finish you off for good. Do you understand that? Just because I have to see your face here every time I come to work doesn't mean I have to say anything to you, doesn't mean I have to acknowledge that you're even alive. Tell that other monster inside of you that what it did to the Bucks five years ago means _nothing_ today.² I'll live in my world, and you're gonna stay in yours. It's not up for discussion, you ugly bastard.”

And it wasn't- Ryusuke hadn't incorporated an almost-career-ending injury into his current moveset _just_ to be told that it was all for naught. He'd wiped Devitt from his memories and from his heart. All that remained was a suicide dive senton over the top rope, sometimes a pose that reflected the Taguchi Ryusuke of the old. The Taguchi Ryusuke of today lived in the here, in the now. He had friends that cared about his well-being and loved him for who he was. He had a job that he treasured, and a life that was precious to him. He'd worked hard to let go of the pain, and truly believed he deserved some peace of mind.

“I-”

“-for the sake of our agreement,” Ryusuke clarified. “We're not friends, Devitt; we never were. You're a heavyweight now, aren't you? Stay there. Do what you have to do to live your goddamn life, but stay the hell out of mine.”

Ryusuke's phone blinked and he read the text from Juice. A car came around the corner. Before Devitt could counter any of his words, he grabbed his bag and braved the cold rain. For the second time in his life, he didn't look back.

* * *

“... that definitely didn't go the way I thought it would,” Shibata grumbled. “I mean, I knew Taguchi had an inner asshole living inside of him, but that was uncalled for.”

Fergal couldn't move. The cold sting of the rain didn't register in his head, not even when Shibata pulled a windbreaker over his shoulder and began ushering him towards a sleek, black car that had pulled up after Juice Robinson's car disappeared into the night with Taguchi Ryusuke inside of it.

“But we'll have a better game-plan next time,” Shibata assured him. “Matters of the heart take time and precision, asshole. Just remember- if you really want to live again, you have to get used to the pain.”

Fergal nodded hollowly, remembering all of the times he'd drank and fucked the pain away. He'd never been good at handling things of this nature with a sober breath. Most of the friends he kept were as enamored with the drink as he was, and the few times he had a modicum of stability in his life ended with him neck-deep in a bottle and balls deep in a nameless, faceless woman that didn't want him after the night was over.

The hardest day in Fergal's life was the day he realized, sober, that very few people could stand to be around him.

“Let's go, asshole,” Shibata said softly. He gently led him inside the black car.

Kenta was in the driver's seat. “What the fuck did you do, Katsuyori,” he snapped.

“Conducted an experiment that went south, but at least the observations bore fruit,” Shibata said honestly.

Kenta sighed but didn't reply. Shibata got into the car and next to Fergal before closing the door. The drive to Kenta's house was long and quiet. Fergal, in a small place in his mind, drowned in memories of the rain.³

* * *

Bad luck came in threes for one Taguchi Ryusuke. After Devitt confronted him outside of the venue, Taguchi had cried into a plate of fried chicken and three mugs of beer while Juice tried to reassure him that it was OK to feel sad. He was equal parts ashamed and enraged, and he couldn't quite articulate why he was in so much pain. Even worse, he felt terrible for keeping Juice away from a good night's rest, so he cried harder and ate more fried chicken. The next morning, he woke up tucked inside of a blanket on Juice's couch. The young man had already left to go to the gym while Ryusuke was sleeping, so not only did Ryusuke look like shit, but he felt the part too.

On the third night of the New Japan Cup, Okada eliminated Kushida. Ryusuke stood dumbfounded next to the Young Lions as Kushida ate two tombstone piledrivers and a Rainmaker before he was pinned for good. While the former champion stood with his arm raised, Ryusuke gathered Kushida's prone face in his arms and pressed the icebag to his welted neck.

“I tried my best,” Kushida wheezed, “didn't I?”

Ryusuke couldn't stop the tears from bleeding into his vision. “Yeah, you did.” He helped his friend out of the ring and backstage where the others awaited their return. The Rainmaker stood proud, a god amongst men, even without a belt around his waist.

* * *

_Ryusuke was out of breath, but they'd done it. He'd gotten the pin, and the Motor City Machine Guns were defeated.⁴ Devitt crawled over to where Ryusuke lay and cradled his face in his hand. Sounds and images jumbled together, but for some reason, Ryusuke could see Devitt's face, feel his warm breath on his face and neck. He was smiling from ear to ear, and suddenly, the pain didn't matter. It didn't matter because they'd done it, and they'd done it together. Devitt helped him sit up and then cradled Ryusuke's weary head to his chest. Something throbbed deep down, and it wasn't because of their shared victory, or even the cheers that resounded in the stadium._

_They got up, and raised their hands. They climbed onto the turnbuckles and cheered with the crowd. They thanked the sponsors and received their plaques, their cups, and finally, their IWGP Junior Heavyweight Tag Team championship belts._

_And then they danced. On September 13, 2009, Ryusuke danced with Fergal Devitt by his side as the world watched. Ryusuke could have kissed the man if he wasn't struggling so hard to keep up with Ryusuke's moves, but so as long as they were together, nothing else mattered._

_Maybe that's when he fell in love._

* * *

Ryusuke froze. Juice and Dragon Lee tended to Kushida while he stared at the broken mirror in the venue's shower room. Ryusuke glimpsed at the image of Juice pressing a cold compress to Kushida's heated forehead while Dragon Lee helped him sit up. Meanwhile, fear blanketed Ryusuke's face, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop dramatically.

Ryusuke remembered. He remembered things he'd locked away for years, things that were meant to be hidden in the past, a shame that should have died a long time ago. And yet, Ryusuke remembered. He remembered what it felt like to be whole before he was broken, before he rebuilt himself, before he became the man that he was today.

If there was a god, He had no mercy for Ryusuke.

“Coach?” Lee asked softly. “Is something wrong?”

Red in the face, Ryusuke turned away from the broken mirror and looked at his masked friend. He struggled to speak. When he managed to finally open his mouth, a hoarse “nothing” resounded in the near empty room. Goto's music began to thrum throughout the building. The main event was beginning.

“You guys go out, I'll watch Kushida,” Dragon Lee said urgently.

“Fuck that,” Kushida spat. He let Juice help him up, wearily sliding an arm around the younger man's shoulder. “I'm good. We have to pull through for Tanahashi-san.”

“You almost died,” Lee deadpanned.

Kushida shrugged. “I've had it worse.”

Lee didn't bother to change his mind. “Then let's go.”

Ryusuke nodded and followed the men out of the shower room and into the hall that led out into the arena. Tanahashi's music resounded and out went the former Ace, the man who'd led the revolution for change at New Japan Pro-Wrestling. The main event of the third night of the New Japan Cup was Tanahashi Hiroshi versus Goto Hirooki. Big Mike met the members of Taguchi Japan at the end of the hall.

All four men nodded in unison, and then entered the arena. Kushida's arm was still around Juice, but they walked out as a unit, brothers against a world that was constantly changing. Tanahashi waited for them at the foot of the ring steps. They walked up right behind him, got into the ring, and stood next to him as the crowd cheered. There was something in the air. The crowd exuded a visceral need to see someone stand tall after all the viciousness expounded in the tournament. Ryusuke shivered. There was something in the air, alright, and it was something ugly and brutal. He stifled his fears and his memories, and managed a smile for Tanahashi's sake.

The match went as everyone expected it to go- an attempted murder in a public arena. Somewhere after the ten minute mark, something snapped in Tanahashi. Even Big Mike was unnerved as they stood to the side, wondering what had had sparked the cruelty that prompted some of the audience members to boo the blonde.

Three slingblades were vicious enough, but the High Fly Flow that flattened Goto at the end was the most harrowing moment of the match. After thirty-three minutes, Tanahashi stood victorious, the rest of Taguchi Japan gathered around him as Ozaki announced that Tanahashi Hiroshi had advanced to the 2019 New Japan Cup finals. The former Ace and the current Ace of New Japan Pro-Wrestling would do battle again, and this time for a chance to reclaim the championship they had both lost somewhere along the way.

Bad luck came in threes for one Taguchi Ryusuke, and he should have expected that not even Tanahashi's victory over Goto would prompt the Gods to be merciful. Tanahashi took the mic from Ozaki after Red Shoes raised his hand. Ryusuke and the others were ready to file out of the ring, but Tanahashi's hand reached out and grabbed a hold of Ryusuke's shirt. The rest of Taguchi Japan looked at Tanahashi with confusion written on their faces, but they stayed in the ring.

“It's been a hard couple of years, Niigata, but thank you for being here for me.” The crowd roared. Red Shoes and Ozaki stepped outside of the ring and watched intently. The commentary enthusiastically spoke into their headsets as the crowd clapped and hooted. It was at full house on the commentary table, featuring an enthusiastic Nogami Shinpei, and the demure Shibata Soichi, Yamazaki Kazuo, Milano Collection A.T., and Milano's fiance, Sanada Seiya. Goto lay on the floor outside of the ring clutching his torso, and was being tended to by three Young Lions circled around his badly beaten body.

Tanahashi turned to Ryusuke and others. “But I want to thank you five the most, and to the others who couldn't be here. Ryusuke, Mike, Lee, Juice, Kushida- thank you. David, if you're watching at home, thank you. Rico, I better see you here next week.”

Lee and Juice didn't bother pretending like they weren't touched. They jumped on Tanahashi while the crowd thrummed with well-wishes and more cheers. Even a weary Kushida found himself in a group hug. Ryusuke, being the cheeseball that he was, planted a wet kiss on his friend's cheek, and helped Dragon Lee push Tanahashi up onto Big Mike's shoulders. The commentary table clapped, the lights flashed red and gold, but Tanahashi wasn't finished.

“Come out, you piece of shit!”

Ryusuke's smile slipped from his face, while Kushida, Lee, and Juice looked up at Tanahashi with shock etched into their skin. The crowd gasped, and even Big Mike's mouth fell open.

Tanahashi laughed into the microphone, sweaty shoulders shaking with mirth, and just as the cruelty had overtaken his person during his match against Goto, his smile instantly became a mixture of glee and pure, unadulterated rage.

“Come out, Devitt. I know your sleazy ass is back there. Come out and face me, bastard.”

Niigata screeched, and Nogami Shinpei screeched along with them. Milano grabbed his fiance's hand while Kenta and Prince Devitt walked out into the arena, close enough that they could get a mic to speak into, but far enough that there was ample space between Taguchi Japan and the two men. Tanahashi got off of Big Mike's shoulders and advanced towards the ropes. The crowd howled with mixed reactions. Ryusuke couldn't figure out if it was rage or mirth, but everyone was on their feet. Something had descended on Niigata on this night, and all Ryusuke felt was the bone-chilling cold.

“What, did you think you could just walk back into my house without there being any consequences?” Tanahashi shook his head, giving Devitt a look of pity and barely contained spite. “You think you can just walk back into this world after everything you've done? Dogs are loyal even when unloved, but you were a rat, Devitt. You still are.”

Cries of disbelief resounded across the arena, and Shinpei Nogami screamed so loudly into his headset that Ryusuke and the others could clearly catch his words, even though they were standing too far away to have been even remotely aware of what the man was saying.

“This world doesn't belong to you anymore,” Tanahashi continued. “It was never yours to begin with, and if you even _think_ that there's a possibility that you'll rise to the top again- forget about it. I'll end your stupid fucking career before you even attempt it.”

The fury in his words were not lost to those witnessing his threats. Tanahashi meant what he said, and even if he didn't have it all, he was still their God. He was their own, private deity, the man who evoked equal parts rage and love. The crowd, unbelieving of such acerbity from their Ace, looked on in awe.

“I can forget a lot, Devitt,” Tanahashi mused out loud. “But I don't forgive, and I haven't forgiven what you did to us- to Taguchi.”

Juice and Kushida looked like they were about to pass out, while Big Mike looked like he was ready to throw Tanahashi over his shoulder and book it before the forty-two year old jumped over the top rope and strangled Devitt in front of two thousand people. Only Dragon Lee kept a reserved face, while Ryusuke would have burst out screaming in disbelief if he didn't think that it would set off an even worse reaction from Tanahashi. Taguchi Japan looked on fearfully while Tanahashi continued.

“So take this as your first and final warning, Devitt,” Tanahashi said sweetly as a perfect smile bloomed onto his face. “Let it be known that I warned you. When it's time for me to end you, don't try to scamper away, because you won't make it far. Start counting, Rat, because this is all you're getting before your time comes.”

It would have ended there if Okada Kazuchika hadn't come out of the opposite entrance, spite written on his own face. Tanahashi turned from Devitt to the Rainmaker, Ryusuke and the others' eyes following him. By now, the commentary team had finally gone quiet, the crowd staring in disbelief as their younger Ace stalked up to the side of the ring and grabbed a microphone out of a ringside worker's hand.

“A tall order coming from a has-been,” Okada laughed into the mic, contempt dripping from every word. “Don't you think it's time to humble yourself, Tanahashi? The rat hasn't even been back two months, and you're already picking on him! Such poor form from someone who's supposedly a visionary.” He cackled into the mic while the words sunk into the crowd and the wrestlers still out on the pulpit.

Tanahashi didn't miss a beat. “If you don't mind your business, I'll make sure you can't make it to our match next week, Kazuchika-kun. And that's a promise.”

That set off cries of dismay from the crowd while the rest of Taguchi Japan tried to figure out if they'd just been transported to an alternate dimension where Tanahashi Hiroshi was a soulless vector. Okada continued to laugh out loud, tears of mirth pooling around his deep, brown eyes. Once he managed to control himself, he spoke into the mic with the calm, collected agency of a man who didn't care, not today, not ever. “We both know you can't do shit. I run this house now, and don't you ever forget it.”

It really, _really_ should have ended there, should have ended when Big Mike put a hand on Tahahashi's shoulder before he could open his mouth again. It should have ended when Juice cut Tanahashi's mic, when Dragon Lee spoke softly into Tanahashi's ear, when Ryusuke gave Tanahashi a look of utter devastation that said 'stop.'

So Tanahashi stopped. He stopped because Okada Kazuchika had nothing to do with this mess involving Prince Devitt, and didn't deserve the time and effort of a well-formed response. Tanahashi gave him a sneer and a smile that spelled murder, and really, that should have ended it. Okada Kazuchika should have gotten the last words; Taguchi Japan should have left Niigata with their heads down and their hands in their pockets. The reigning Ace should have walked away with the final fanfare, the crowd should have been left shocked and shaken, but like with everything in the world, things only got worse. Bad luck came in threes, for one Taguchi Ryusuke.

Kenny Omega came out from behind Prince Devitt and reminded him of how much he loathed the nature of things.

The crowd made a sound that was something akin to a war cry. At thirty-five, Kenny Omega had curly black hair that he'd dyed purple and blue in the front, at least for this week. He was in a standard Elite shirt, with the Bucks flanking his sides. Cheers of 'O-me-ga' resounded throughout the arena. Nogami Shinpei screamed into his headset while Milano Collection A.T held his face in his hands and watched with barely contained dread. At that point, Big Mike had had enough and was ready to usher all of Taguchi Japan out of the ring, but Tanahashi held out his hand, refusing to move. Kenta and Devitt turned around to look at the final leader of Bullet Club, the man who crushed the stable beneath the heel of his boots before tossing the broken remnants of the Club into the wind.

“Friends, fellow countrymen, the Cleaner welcomes you to yet another of episode of 'nobody asked for your opinion, Okada.'”

The crowd cheered for Omega as if he was a returning war hero. The kind of noise that thrummed throughout the arena was of the kind you only heard during unruly title changes. There was an excitement in the crowd that Ryusuke had witnessed few times in his lifetime, and never when he was in involved.

“And seriously, Tanahashi? Publicly threatening a poor, little Irishman that couldn't make it in the big leagues in the States? Cut him a break, will ya? His only friend right now is another failure,” Kenny said pointedly, looking straight at Kenta.

Devitt stepped between Kenta and the Elite, and finally brought the mic to his lips. “This has nothing to do with you.”

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Christ, Ferg, of _course_ this has everything to do with me. Heck, I think the only one we're missing right now is Ibushi!”

The Bucks made matching 'o' faces at the mention, while Nogami Shinpei screamed into the headset about Apollo 55, the Golden Lovers, and Taguchi Japan being embroiled in an all-out faction war. At that point, the Ingobernables quietly filtered out of the back and lined up next to a harried Milano and a solemn Sanada, but none of the men made a move to speak. They observed quietly, like shadows that haunted one's every step on long, lonesome roads.

Ryusuke couldn't see Devitt's face, but he could feel the Demon's unbridled rage all the way in the ring. Big Mike tried once again to pull Tanahashi away as the other groups steadily rolled out into the arena, but Tanahashi wasn't having any of it. He stood against the ropes, glaring daggers into Kenny Omega's soul.

“Come on, man,” Kenny teased softly into the mic. “Live a little. The old days are over, and we're all out of bullets. The Elite, however, could use a new man. You up for a change?” When Devitt didn't answer, Kenny's face darkened. “Oh, come on. It only took a few losses for you to beat Taguchi half to death before riding off into the sunset with your bouncer. Kenta is about as useless as him. Nothing's stopping you from cutting your losses, brother.”

“If you don't shut your fucking mouth, tonight's gonna be your last night in the company and on Earth.” Shibata came up from behind, spooking the Bucks and Kenny into dropping his mic. The champion of the people wore a simple pair of jeans and a plain black tee, a microphone already in his hand, his belt secured tightly around his waist. The dread in the arena immediately lifted, and the crowd jumped to its feet again, but Shibata cut off the cheers. “You want words? Too fucking bad, we only use fists here. You want him to join your shitty little boys' club? _Make_ him want to join it. Right now, all I see are a bunch of instigators who have nothing better to do than meddle in shit that's _none_ of their fucking business.”

Devitt tried to speak into the mic, but Shibata cut him off too. “Shut up. _All of you_ need to shut the hell up. Kenta, calm the Asshole down.” With that, Shibata pushed past the Elite, Devitt, and Kenta, and stalked up to the ring steps and glared at Tanahashi who still waited at the ropes.

The arena watched with bated breath as Tanahashi and Shibata continued to stare each other down. At this point, Taguchi Japan had gravitated to one corner and stayed out of the roiling coils of fury emanating from the wrestlers gathered around the arena. The commentary table sat still while the crowd stared open-mouthed and in awe.

“That asshole is my friend,” he said softly into the mic, and Shibata was rarely a soft person. “Tonight is the last time you get to speak to my friend like that. You want to end his career? You'll have to end mine first. Trust me, others have tried, and they didn't do too well themselves in the long run.”

For the people in the crowd nearest Okada, another crisis was imminent, but Ishii and Yoshi-Hashi held the younger man back before he could storm Shibata. The champion continued to look straight into Tanahashi's eyes, eyes alight with something worse than passion, something too powerful to combat with just words alone.

“It took a while for me to learn how important these things are... but I learned. You want a fight, Tanahashi? Beat Kazuchika next week. Beat him, and meet me at Dominion. You say you're fighting for your friends' honor? Well, I'm fighting for mine. I'll see you, Ace, and until then, remember that this world belongs to anyone who's ever bled in that ring. You may not like it, but the Asshole bled inside of it too. It's our home as much as it is yours.”

With that, Shibata dropped the mic and the crowd went wild one last time. Naito and the rest of the Ungovernables laughed hysterically from the commentary table while Omega and the Bucks nodded their heads with facetious little smiles on their faces. Ryusuke watched as Ishii, Yoshi-Hashi, and Gedo led a fuming Okada out of the arena, while Goto Hirooki finally rose to his feet without the help of the Young Lions and watched as Shibata came around the ring and offered him his hand. Taguchi Japan, not wanting to interfere, finally rolled out of the ring and began walking away from the thrumming crowd.

The world watched, already aware that Shibata and Goto were soulmates. Few people were as close to each other as Shibata and Goto were to one another, and the arena knew. The arena knew, and so did Okada, so when the blonde sensed a change in the air, he turned right around and stalked back to the ring while Yoshi-Hashi and Ishii helplessly followed. Gedo watched with dread, as if everything had been planned _until_ that specific moment.

Goto collapsed into Shibata's arms and Shibata held him up, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

The last thing thing Ryusuke saw before he went behind the curtain with his friends was Kenta, Devitt, and Shibata encircled around Goto. Okada and the rest of CHAOS watched heatedly, a look of utter devastation on the younger Ace's face. The Ingobernables quietly disappeared from the arena, and the Elite laughed loudly, as if this were the comedy routine of the century.

Bad luck came in threes for one Taguchi Ryusuke, but tonight, it came in the form of several different interruptions, a bad memory of falling in love with the wrong person, and having to watch one of his closest friends declare a blood feud against his asshole of a former tag partner. That declaration then turned into a house of horrors, and now four different factions were in for a full scale war come June.

Bad luck came in threes for one Taguchi Ryusuke, and he really wished he'd done himself a favor and stayed home.

* * *

“It's all over Twitter,” Juice cried helplessly. “And Management released an emergency newsletter!”

Kushida and Dragon Lee looked mortified. Kushida gulped, wiping his sweaty brow with the back of his hand. “We're screwed, huh?”

Juice nodded. “Big time. Chairman Sugabayashi has an emergency press conference scheduled for tomorrow morning. I think it's safe to say that we're all fucked.”

Dragon Lee tiredly crossed himself. “And right before Best of the Super Juniors final round and the final Cup show.”

“Who woulda thunk the biggest swerve of the night would come from Management itself.” Juice held his head in his hands and moaned pitifully. “Guys, we are so screwed.”

And they were. For all intents and purposes, the road to Dominion was well-paved even before the Cup and the Juniors tournament had concluded. They were, rather unfortunately, very screwed.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¹: Devitt was a heel in New Japan for some time pre-Apollo 55.  
> ²: The Demon turned on the Young Bucks and, by extension, Bullet Club halfway through its match against Taguchi at Invasion Attack 2014.  
> ³: How y'all like that Bleach ref *creying*  
> ⁴: Refers to the Apollo 55 vs Motor City Machine Guns match that took place on September 13, 2009.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and don't forget to leave a comment! (~˘▾˘)~


	7. A Symphony of Errors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apollo 55 died on a bleak night in April. It had been six years. Fergal still remembered the heat of Taguchi's skin when he hit him in the back of the head with a lariat.

Ryusuke didn't show up to the emergency press conference out of fear, but the rest of Taguchi Japan did, and it was from them that he learned that he was set to face Devitt in a tag match at the final Cup show. The news ate at him, and finally peaked three days later when he decided that he was going to go get laid to rid himself of all the bad feelings pent up inside of him. Maybe he'd even score a second date to make up for the terrible spring. At the end of the week, he got his brains scrambled and his back blown out, but the melancholy persisted. It was only after Lee had won the Best of the Super Juniors 26 that things finally began to brighten up for Ryusuke, especially when Lee made a surprise announcement over lunch at Juice's house.

“I'm signing a three-year contract!”

Kushida spat out his beer. “Get the fuck out.”

Lee nodded ecstatically. “It's true. I was offered the contract the day after I won the trophy. Hattori-san and a representative from Corporate came to my hotel room with the contract. I signed instantly.”

Ryusuke was shaking with glee, and before he could stop himself, jumped on his younger friend and enveloped him into a hug.

“Oof! Coach, please! I can't breathe!”

Ryusuke pretended to sob. “But you're here! With us! I'm so happy!”

After several minutes of fake sobbing, some real tears, and a couple of more hugs from the other members of Taguchi Japan, Lee sat back against one of Juice's cushioned chairs and explained his future plans to the team. “I'll be challenging Takahashi for the title at Osaka-jo Hall, but some of my friends are telling me he might ghost on our match to go stalk Kotoge over in NOAH.”

Tanahashi grimaced. “A rumor, but a rumor I'm inclined to believe. A man like Takahashi is nothing if not his obsession personified.”

Lee cringed. “Don't I know it.”

“Don't worry about Takahashi,” Juice said confidently. “In the contract for my match against Desperado, there's a specific clause that states that he can't bring any of Suzuki-gun into the main arena while we're wrestling, or he automatically forfeits the title. When the press conference for your match comes up, deny the first contract and ask for a punishment clause for if Takahashi doesn't show. That'll have him keep his dick in his pants long enough to do his job, and _then_ he can go play Romeo with a rival promotion's wrestler.”

“Actually, I heard Kotoge shot him with a watering hose when he found Takahashi lurking in the bushes outside his apartment complex,” Tanahashi noted.

“I wanna know who's supplying the crazies with people's private addresses,” Ryusuke grumbled, taking a sip of his beer and shuddering at the thought of the pendant still at his apartment.

Tanahashi sighed. “If he just _asked_ like a normal human being, maybe Kotoge would have said yes to a single date. He didn't have to escalate it into _this_.”

Kushida couldn't help but chuckle. “With Naito as his mentor, did you expect anything less?”

The men begrudgingly shook their heads no and went back to their meals. At one point, it began to rain, but no one paid attention, not with the warmth emanating from Juice's central heating. The temperature kept them toasty, the food kept them full, and good conversation kept them sane.

* * *

The final night of the 2019 New Japan Cup appeared much faster than they expected. The nine-man tag triple threat was the third match on the card and right before the intermission. Ryusuke, Juice, and Kushida of Taguchi Japan went out first, followed by the Elite, and finally, プライド, roughly translated as PRIDE. It was an inter-promotional faction that currently included Kenta, Prince Devitt, Shibata, and Goto. Goto, however, was not scheduled to fight in the tag match, so Devitt and Kenta went out into the arena led by a stone-faced Shibata.

The debacle started off with Matt Jackson and Kenta in the ring, while the rest waited patiently just outside the ring. Taguchi pointedly ignored Fergal, whose own eyes were on Kenta only _half_ the time. He felt bad, but at the same time, he couldn't help the desperation that thrummed in his chest whenever his eyes strayed too far from Taguchi's figure. He wanted to see how Taguchi's expressions played out. There was a visceral need to take in every quirk of Taguchi's lips when he witnessed Kenta smash Jackson's face into a ring post, every gasp, every movement that he made outside of the confines of a ring. Fergal studied his scoffs, the sighs of relief, and finally the bellow that followed after Kushida tagged himself in by tagging out Kenta. In the midst of the tag, Matt Jackson was able to scurry over to his brother and tag him in. Kushida was just as vicious as Kenta, hitting Nick Jackson with a knuckle punch not thirty seconds into his tag. Taguchi cheered, and Fergal cringed. Shibata blinked uninterestedly while Kenta collected his breath.

Has it really been that long, he wondered. It seemed like it had barely been a week since they'd feuded with the Time Splitters. Had it really been seven years? Watching Kushida fight, he thought about how much he loathed the two nerds who shoehorned their way into their lives in 2012. That's what they did, didn’t they? Machine Gun called them a a pair of cosplaying nerds who were arguably much more powerful than they'd led on. Kushida and Alex Shelley stole Apollo 55's momentum, just like the Golden Lovers once did. Everyone kept taking from them, even when they worked so hard to keep themselves afloat. Ibushi was a God long before he stepped into a ring with Fergal, but Omega had grown powerful, so powerful that he'd won every title in the heavyweight division, save the IWGP Heavyweight Championship.

And Kushida? Kushida was Intercontinental Champion now, had been US Heavyweight Champion before, had made it in the top five of the previous year's G1, and was now preparing for his Dominion defense. The world had changed. The ring colors were the same, but Alex Shelley was no longer with the company, and Taguchi had started a new faction. Taguchi Ryusuke was happy. Ibushi was somewhere in the world, but Fergal had heard that the man was still living his best life. Omega was here, and seemed content to be wreaking havoc. One way or another, everyone had found a way to move on, leaving their shared past with Fergal behind, nothing but an afterthought at the end of the day. He flared his nostrils when Taguchi smiled. Rage singed his skin when Kushida suplexed Nick Jackson and caused the Young Buck to scream. Fergal had given _so_ much to be remembered. Didn't they remember how hard he worked in _both_ the tag and the singles division? Didn't they remember him fighting in his first G1? His first Best of the Super Juniors? He'd given _so much._

And Taguchi had given twice as much. Fergal blinked as the scene cleared in front of his eyes. He suddenly felt like curling up into a ball. Before his knees buckled, Shibata grabbed a hold of his arm. He rubbed the stray tears from his eyes and turned to his friend who nodded sharply. Shibata had noticed, and now that he looked around, so had Kenta, and Juice Robinson, and even the members of the Elite who weren't in the ring. The only men who didn't know Fergal's condition were Kushida, Nick Jackson, and Taguchi, and Taguchi's eyes never left Kushida's form. Fergal's envy transformed into shame, and he remembered _why_ they forgot about him in the first place. He betrayed Taguchi, after all. No one put a gun to his head and told him to let his hatred overtake his soul. The Time Splitters won clean. Taguchi got pinned. The Time Splitters thanked them for a good fight. Taguchi said sorry. Taguchi went down on one knee and _apologized_ to him. He apologized to Fergal for their loss.

And then Fergal killed him- maybe not forever, but a flame was extinguished during that show. Apollo 55 died on a bleak night in April. It had been six years. Fergal still remembered the heat of Taguchi's skin when he hit him in the back of the head with a lariat.

He didn't notice the tag until the referee started yelling at him to get in. Somewhere in his reverie, Taguchi was also tagged in, and suddenly, it was 2014 again. There was savagery in Taguchi that he rarely showed in their time together, and Fergal thought about how much of an honor it was to be the only person in the world to invoke that kind of hatred in him. He never knew loathing could paint such a beautiful picture, shape a man into the most sublime creature Fergal had ever laid eyes on. Taguchi's elbow struck Fergal across the face and he stumbled backwards. He did nothing to deflect the strikes, jabs, and chops. The Demon inside of him cried. It cried while Taguchi bust his lip open with a well-placed elbow strike, and cried even harder as Taguchi dragged him by the hair and smacked his face into his kneecap. His blood painted Taguchi's knee-pad red, and he smiled. He couldn't raise his hand against a man who'd already defeated him. They were never supposed to fight again, right? That's what the contract had said. Either Taguchi went, or Fergal did, and fate chose Fergal. He could raise his arm and shield his neck, but hadn't he lost this war years ago?

Why was he here again?

Like a bullet to the head, he crawled out of the void the moment he noticed the Bucks pull Taguchi out of the ring by his feet.¹ The referee lay knocked out outside of the ring, while Juice Robinson and Kushida lay prone on their sides with several chairs littered around their bodies. Before Shibata and Kenta could stop him, he charged, but stopped when he saw Omega spray Taguchi with a can of hairspray.² Then Fergal jumped. He jumped right on top of the Elite and after he scrambled to his feet, punched Omega square in the mouth.

A new referee rang the bell, disqualifying the Elite for tossing a chair at the first referee _,_ thereby ending the match with no real winner _._ But Fergal saw red. Kenta and Shibata joined him as they ganged up on the Elite. Taguchi screamed. He screamed so loudly that Kushida and Juice Robinson managed to crawl over to him with their own injured bodies, and held him close as he clawed at his burning eyes. The Demon howled. Fergal grabbed Omega by his hair and hurled him across the floor before jumping on top of him. He smashed Omega's skull into the pavement once, twice, three times before Shibata and Kenta pulled him off. Omega's head was bleeding, Fergal's lip was torn, and the Demon roared. It roared and everyone watched with horror in their eyes.

It was only after he saw Taguchi a safe distance from the carnage that the Demon finally slipped back inside. Fergal blinked and then collapsed in Kenta and Shibata's arms. Kushida and Juice Robinson had taken Taguchi away from him. They'd taken him away to safety. He let Kenta and Shibata take him away through the opposite exit.

Kushida and Juice Robinson did what he'd always failed to do. Fergal chuckled, blood from his torn lip painting his chin and neck a deeper red than it already was. The crowd was awestruck, but he showed off his bloody teeth in a bleary smile. Taguchi was safe, and Fergal was still broken. The world had moved on, but Fergal's misfortune hadn't.

* * *

Ryusuke heard Ozaki call Tanahashi's victory over Okada while he rested his head in Juice's lap. Kushida tended to his eyes with a warm cloth, and though the pain had lifted and his eyesight was clear again, he chose to keep his eyes shut. A part of Ryusuke had returned. He supposed it was the Ryusuke of the old, the Ryusuke who fell in love with the wrong man, made all the wrong promises, and paid for it in kind. Whatever it was, that piece had crawled out of the depths of his memory and made itself known again. Ryusuke gulped. Fear itched in his throat, but that seemed to be the nature of these things.

Tanahashi stumbled into their locker room a half an hour later and collapsed next to Ryusuke's cot.

“I won,” Tanahashi said wistfully.

Ryusuke could hear the sob caught in his friend's throat, and smiled. “You always cry after a match.”

Tanahashi sniffed. “Ass. Aren't you supposed to congratulate me on my amazing victory?”

“I'm so sorry I forgot to kiss your feet, Tanahashi-sama. As you can see, my eyes are a little damaged right now, but when they're OK, I'll kiss you as many times as you want!”

Someone punched him in the arm and he yelped, before strong and sweaty arms enveloped him in a hug. “Ass,” Tanahashi whispered into his ear before burying his head in the crook of his neck. He cried softly, but his heaving chest prompted Ryusuke to wrap his own arms around him.

“You know, in another timeline, I'm pretty sure you two are married,” Juice commented in perfect Japanese.

“I have to agree,” Kushida added, and Ryusuke just _knew_ he was grinning from ear to ear.

Maybe, in another lifetime, Ryusuke had the balls to admit his feelings before Tanahashi went ahead and fell in love with a woman, married her, and gave her two children. Maybe, in a different world, they were friends from the start. But it wasn't a different world- the world they lived in today was a product of their individual choices, and they were nothing to be ashamed of.

Ryusuke hugged Tanahashi while he cried in his arms. They were OK. They were OK, and that's all that mattered at the end of the day.

* * *

“Ricochet! Where the hell were you?”

“Hey, Coach! Tanahashi-san! Mind if I take you two out for dinner? Kushida and Juice are already on their way to the restaurant.”

The veteran wrestlers nodded enthusiastically and grabbed a hold of the younger man before pulling him into a tight hug. “Where are we off to, Rico?” Tanahashi asked with a million dollar smile.

Ricochet smiled wistfully before answering. “The first place we all ate together- in that tiny hole-in-the-wall in Ikebukuro.”

* * *

They laid together in a small, neighborhood park at three in the morning, Ryusuke's head on Tanahashi's chest as Tanahashi played with locks of his soft hair and stared up at the clear sky. They were drunker than usual and probably should have crashed at one of their homes by now, but the gravity of the night had worn them down so much that they'd opted to lay down in the park next to Tanahashi's house while his wife kept a sad eye on them from their balcony. Juice, Kushida, and Ricochet went back to their respective homes, and maybe, _maybe_ they should have been back home too, but there was something in the air. It wasn't anything electric or even poignant, but there was something there. It was there, and it haunted Ryusuke, haunted Tanahashi.

Pain. There was so much pain that they thought their hearts would cave in on themselves.

“So he's really leaving,” Ryusuke said softly.

“WWE-bound, as they like to say,” Tanahashi confirmed just as softly.

“My heart hurts,” Ryusuke admitted. “He's like a son to me, you know? Even if he's barely ten years younger than me, he's like a son. I want good things for him, Tana.”

“And there are good things back in America. He left a lot behind to come here, but maybe it's time he went back.”

Ryusuke didn't bother wiping away the tears. “ Yeah. That's his home, right? He should have the right to go back.” They drifted off into silence for several minutes. Tanahashi's fingers continued to stroke Ryusuke's black hair, absently scratching his scalp from time to time as Ryusuke's tears slowly began to abate.

“Tana?”

“Hm?”

“Devitt, Samurai, Minoru, Yohei, Sho, and now Rico. Everyone keeps leaving, and _fuck_ if it doesn't hurt like hell.”

“It wouldn't matter if it didn't hurt.” Tanahashi took a deep breath before continuing. “It was supposed to hurt when Devitt left. You loved him, didn't you? That's why it killed you.”

Ryusuke didn't even bother lying. He was too drunk, too into his pain, too aware of all the times he'd been left behind. “Once, a long, long time ago. I was just coming up as a wrestler, much more happy-go-lucky than I should have been. It's not news that I have really, _really_ bad taste in men and women.” He laughed out loud, his eyes crinkling under the moon's soft gaze. “I used to let my mom and dad pick my dates back in high school. They were boring dates, but they were never cruel people. I guess I got too ambitious. I fell for the wrong one at thirty, and now at forty, I'm still floundering like an idiot.”

“Are you ashamed?”

Ryusuke snorted. “Of what? Picking a bad partner? Eh, sometimes. Sometimes the sex is great, but then sometimes I never confess my feelings, we don't have sex, and they never know I loved them. It's weird. I guess it's a thing with me considering I'm a weird person in general.”

“Did you ever think about going somewhere else? Trying your hand with new people?”

“No,” Ryusuke admitted honestly. “I've never been ashamed of falling in love, just... ashamed that I always con myself into falling in love with all the _wrong_ people. Love in itself is amazing, Tana, and I get double the people to fall in love with.”

Tanahashi took a deep breath before speaking again. “In this world, or the next, I'll avenge your honor no matter what.”

Ryusuke couldn't help but burst into giggles. “What melodramas are you watching at home right now, Tana? Is it the Korean ones? The Hindi ones?”

“Don't patronize me,” Tanahashi said scathingly. “I'm ashamed. We didn't become friends until so much later in our lives, even though we trained in the same dojo, and learned under the same man. For years, we were right in front of each other, and I didn't even extend my hand in friendship until almost two decades after we first met. What does that say about me as a human being? As someone who wants to carry the Fighting Spirit into the future? I couldn't even protect my friend when he needed me the most.”

“It says that you're human,” Ryusuke chuckled. “You're human, Tana. No matter how much they deify you in and outside the ring- you're only human.”

“I'm sorry, Ryusuke.”

“I'm sorry too.”

A cloud drifted in front of the moon and stole the light that shone on their warm skin. Tanahashi's wife called for them to come inside as rain threatened to break, but Ryusuke and Tanahashi laid quietly on the grass until the first droplets of water hit their face and they were forced to go inside.

* * *

Fergal drank his tea near his kitchen window, slowly sipping at the steaming cup as the rain pattered against his window. Shibata snored on his sofa with three blankets cocooning him against the soft cushions. Fergal thought to take some rest himself, but he opted against it. It was a cold and rainy night, and he didn't have a match tomorrow morning, so there was no shame in enjoying a hot cup of tea at four in the morning.

It was still a few hours until sunrise, so he had time to think. It wasn't his favorite hobby, but it was an important activity he'd began regularly partaking in after he'd gone to the rehabilitation clinic to finally battle his alcoholism. He thought about Tanahashi and Kushida. He remembered them from their olden days, and then thought about how they differed from the men they were today. He thought about Juice, and Kushida, and that boy Dragon Lee, and the men from NOAH who he'd fought once but was now friends with. He thought about his first apartment in Tokyo after he came to New Japan full time and graduated from the Dojo. He remembered late nights drinking away the pain of the bruises and bumps he'd taken in his matches, and the short mornings where he rushed to the gym to get in an early workout before he had to report to work.

He remembered Taguchi, and being near him, but never with him until they asked him- why don't you tag with that boy who has no one? He didn't have to say yes, but he did. The tag division belts were never on his radar, but he was floundering, and so was that man named Taguchi Ryusuke. They shook hands for the first time after years of having been around each other. He barely knew Japanese at the time, but the translators were kind and they were patient. Did they ever officially become friends? Fergal wasn't sure because he didn't even remember _when_ they shook hands. He didn't remember the day, the moment, or even the place because it felt irrelevant at the time. It had been irrelevant up until his alcoholism was under control and being treated for. Then, suddenly, everything mattered. The pictures on his laptop mattered. The awards he won between 2009 and 2013 mattered. The news articles mattered. Their battles against the Golden Lovers mattered, the Motor City Machine Guns mattered, the Time Splitters Mattered, Unione mattered.

Everything mattered. Every moment, every smile, every time Taguchi- every time _Ryusuke_ looked at him with love in his eyes- they mattered.

And now, Ryusuke looked at Tanahashi with love in his eyes. He looked at Kushida like he was his blood brother, like they'd known each other for a hundred years. He looked at Juice and that boy Dragon Lee like they were his sons. There was love in Ryusuke's eyes, so much love that Fergal thought the ebullience would blind him.

He found that he envied them, felt that sharp mix of pain and jealousy erupt in his chest every time they helped Taguchi to his feet, pulled him closer, and loved him just as much as Taguchi loved them back.

Seven years ago, Low Ki beat him while Taguchi watched.³ There was so much shame, so much pain, and yet, Taguchi never left his side. He'd lost, but Taguchi was an arm's length away. Why wouldn't he be? He loved Fergal, didn't he?

Fergal felt tears gather in his eyes and drip softly into the mug of tea that had gone cold. At the end of the day, Taguchi Ryusuke had more love in his heart than Fergal had rage in his own. There was too much love to give, too much love to have, so his former friend had founded a new family. Fergal cried, maybe because he felt bad for being such a terrible person, maybe it was because he knew that Taguchi would've forgiven him if he'd just gone back before the abyss ate him up completely. But there was no way for him to go back in time and do it over. Second chances existed in stories, but there were no stories here- just one tragedy after another.

Fergal didn't go to bed until the sun finally came up.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¹: Invasion Attack 2014, the Bucks pulled Taguchi out of the ring by his feet when he was gaining momentum against Prince Devitt.  
> ²: Wrestle Kingdom 9, Kenny Omega sprayed Taguchi to one-up him in the match.  
> ³: Wrestling Dontaku 2012, Low Ki defeated Prince Devitt while Taguchi Ryusuke was ringside.


	8. Blame it Upon a Rush of Blood to the Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the privacy of his mind, Fergal thought about how beautiful the man in front of him looked. He didn't bother trying to convince himself that these thoughts didn't exist. Maybe, once, he'd have sworn up and down that he wasn't like that, but age had greatly humbled him. He'd be lying if he said that the man in front of him didn't emanate an energy that could be something akin to one's lifeblood. Few people evoked devotion in Fergal, but even fewer could evoke it from the Demon. Taguchi had caught them both. Denying it would have been foolish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title derived from Coldplay's "A Rush of Blood to the Head."

“He never loved me.”

“Hmm?”

“Last night, you asked me if I loved him. I did. I loved him a lot, but he never loved me.”

Tanahashi nodded. “I figured. He didn't seem like he had much of a soul at the time.”

Ryusuke shrugged. “Souled or soulless, it didn't matter to me. I was a fool, and I was in love.”

“Tomfoolery gets the best of us,” Tanahashi said sagely. “But it doesn't define us. The pain he caused you? Remember it, Ryu. One day, you'll have to use it to get rid of him again.”

Ryusuke plopped a grape in his mouth and chewed earnestly. The rest of the morning went by quietly until it was time for Ryusuke to go home and prepare for the day ahead of him.

* * *

“Seriously, Ferg? Parlay over coffee?”

Fergal adjusted the sunglasses on his face and took a sip of the black coffee the waitress had prepared for him. “The rules of the company state that no fighting is allowed to take place outside of a venue or press conference, or both parties involved are immediately fired and blacklisted from professionally wrestling in promotions that adhere to the social contract. Do you adhere to the social contract, Kenny?”

Kenny rolled his eyes and snorted. “I adhere, Ferg, so what's this all about?”

Fergal finally took off the shades and folded them neatly before placing them on the table. “You tell me.”

“Oh, don't start with that bullshit,” Kenny sneered. He took a drink of his water and began fiddling with the pastry on his plate with the tiny fork placed next to it. “You deserve this for making a fool of me. You _promised_ me that you wouldn't try to make things go back to the way they were, and what do you do? The exact same _shit_ you promised you wouldn't. You can't make a fool of me- I won't let you.”

Fergal was flabbergasted, and yet, he couldn't help but feel a small inkling of guilt begin to nag at his throat. “I'm not trying to destroy New Japan, Kenny. Those days are _long_ behind me. I'm not the man I was, and I don't intend to be that man ever again. I know you know this. I did not align with any members of the Club in public, so please, tell me what the _fuck_ you're talking about.”

“Don't fucking patronize me!” Kenny slammed his hands on the table and shook the cups and utensils. Drops of coffee and water stained the pale pink tablecloth while Fergal tried to get his heart rate under control. He'd jumped with the shout and was now hyperaware that the patrons of the small cafe were giving dirty looks to the white men settled at the table near the flower pots.

Kenny adjusted his collar and cleared his throat before lowering his voice to a more appropriate octave. “You don't think I see what you're doing? You don't think I realize what's coming next? Really, Fergal? Trying to bring Apollo 55 back into the public conscious after _five fucking years?_ No one remembers! And no one has to. You think you're the only one who's got something at stake here? You think you're the only one with a past?”

Fergal was aghast. “What does Ryusuke have to do with anything?”

Kenny gave him a dry smile. “Everything, actually. Tell me, Ferg- has he actually forgiven you for what you did?”

Dread settled into Fergal's chest. “No, he hasn't.”

Kenny continued to smile. “Join The Elite, Ferg. I know the monster craves destruction. Just _imagine_ what we could do together as a unit? You'd never have to lay eyes on Taguchi ever again. Leave him where he belongs- in the past.”

A crude howl threatened to rip from his mouth. The Demon burned his throat, singed the barrier between his soul and its own. “It's not a monster. It's just-”

What was it? What was the Demon but a manifestation of his psychosis? A result of his alcoholism? A coping mechanism for his inability to deal with the realities in his life? It wasn't like Fergal could ever reign himself in long enough to function like a normal human being. He'd always needed _something_ to hold him down, whether it be the alcohol, the Demon, Ryusuke, Bullet Club, WWE, money, women, whatever he could take without any repercussions.

Only there _were_ repercussions. There were always repercussions.

“-lonely,” Fergal finished. “I'll see you in the ring, Kenny.”

Kenny didn't try to convince him any further. “I'll be here for as long you decide to push. If you can't leave Apollo 55 out of your life, then you can't leave _me_ out. I refuse. If you're gonna fuck with both of our careers, then be rest assured that I'll be throwing in my own punches.”

And with that, Kenny got up and left, leaving Fergal with the bill and unfinished coffee and pastries. Instead of wasting the food, he decided to dig in. It wasn't the first time he was eating alone, and certainly wouldn't be the last.

* * *

Dominion came sooner than Ryusuke would have liked. It was almost the end of June, the skies were brighter than usual, and Ryusuke could have taken a well-needed vacation, but instead, had chosen to wait the tour out in the sanctity of his home. It's not like he was useful in the long run. He could barely beat Takahashi Yujiro these days, much less tussle on the level of the younger, sprier juniors. He didn't want to wrestle in the tour leading up to the marquee event, and Corporate didn't push him to try. Ricochet was leaving, so there was no investment in showcasing Funky Future's talent anymore. In a way, it was the saddest Ryusuke had ever been in a long while.

They were first on the card. He and Ricochet welcomed the crowd at Osaka-jo Hall, thanked them for coming to see them, and stepped aside for PRIDE to enter. Devitt and Kenta came out to Kenta's music, solemn in their face and movements. Of course it's them, Ryusuke thought. Who else would it be? Barely anyone remembered Fergal and Ryusuke's history, but those who did would be able to relive their hatred one more time before the curtain closed. It was Ryusuke's promise to himself. His next fight against Devitt would be his last. He'd spent a lot of time being angry, and the last thing he wanted to do was go back to being _that_ kind of man.

There were no belts on the line, no histories that mattered in the current lives of New Japan fans. For Ryusuke, all that mattered was Ricochet. He deserved to go out with a bang, and for that bang, Ryusuke would try his best.

* * *

It was as if brimstone surrounded the arena, separating the crowd from the two men who'd first stepped into the ring. Electricity sparked in the air, showering the masses with a need to experience fireworks, anything that could prove that there was chemistry between the men in the ring. No one could be sure how many in the crowd actually remembered the full history of Apollo 55, but Fergal figured that those that _did_ remember were probably sitting with bated breath. Fergal locked eyes with Taguchi Ryusuke, and the world went quiet.

In the privacy of his mind, Fergal thought about how beautiful the man in front of him looked. He didn't bother trying to convince himself that these thoughts didn't exist. Maybe, once, he'd have sworn up and down that he wasn't like that, but age had greatly humbled him. He'd be lying if he said that the man in front of him didn't emanate an energy that could be something akin to one's lifeblood. Few people evoked devotion in Fergal, but even fewer could evoke it from the Demon. Taguchi had caught them both. Denying it would have been foolish.

“Everything good inside that skull of yours?” Kenta called from outside the ring in crisp Japanese.

“Yes,” Fergal called back. After a long night of thinking and his conversation with Kenny at the cafe, Fergal could admit that his mind had cleared some. The pain was still there, but his emotions were under control for now. They were here to fight. Fergal was determined to show Ryusuke that he deserved to be back.

On the bell's command, they grappled. Fergal got in two elbow strikes before Ryusuke swept him off his feet and got him in a headlock on the mat. Fergal's heart jumped. He could feel the blood pumping through his veins, but more than that, he could clearly feel the heat of Ryusuke's skin against his own. He took a deep breath, maneuvered out of the headlock, and circled around the man he once thought he hated with every fiber of his being.

Ryusuke hit the ropes and aimed for a lariat. Fergal dodged and hit him with an Enzuigiri before tagging Kenta in. Ryusuke flared his nostrils, but Fergal just smiled. Ricochet watched with quiet anticipation. Fergal knew that if he wanted to, he could ask for a singles bout against Ryusuke, but today? Today was about Ryusuke's friend. He didn't know the man well, but if Ryusuke loved him enough to honor him by tagging in one last match with him, then Fergal would give them the respect they deserved.

Ryusuke and Kenta put on a good fight until Ryusuke had to tag in Ricochet because of the damage to his back. Kenta tagged Fergal in, and he and Ricochet resumed the battle. It ended up being a fair bout in the end, with Ryusuke tagging in one last time to hit Fergal with several hip attacks and a Ketsuye before tagging Ricochet back in. The younger man hit him with the 630 **°** senton to finish off the match. Fergal couldn't raise his shoulder in time, and accepted his defeat with honor.

The applause was thunderous as the referee raised Ricochet and Ryusuke's hands. Kenta tried carrying him out of the arena entirely, but he gestured his friend to slow down. They settled against the steel rails and watched as Ricochet took the mic and said thank you. He thanked the fans, Taguchi Japan, and Ryusuke for welcoming him to the promotion with open arms. Soon enough, the rest of the members of Taguchi come out to hug Ricochet and say their goodbyes. When they threw the young black man onto their shoulders and started Ricochet cheers, Kenta and Fergal quietly left the arena.

Fergal found that he had tears in his own eyes, and he had no idea why.

* * *

Ryusuke sat on commentary next to a very handsome man with a penchant for the color pink. It was then that he learned that this was the infamous Atsushi Kotoge, and consequently the reason why Hiromu Takahashi lost his Junior title to Dragon Lee after a fifty-three minute bout at Dominion 6.22.

“He's very handsome,” Ryusuke told Milano Collection A.T. as they went off the air and watched as Atsushi Kotoge helped a morose Takahashi Hiromu out of the arena. Two minutes later, Juice entered the arena for his bout against El Desperado.

“Love should never be a hindrance,” Milano said placidly. “He should have been happy his beloved was watching him fight- not distracted.”

Ryusuke sighed. “But he's young- can you blame him?”

“Yes,” the older man replied without missing a beat.

After Juice pinned Desperado with two Pulp Frictions, he took his title, danced around, and then planted a big fat kiss on Ryusuke's cheek. As he exited the arena, he blew kisses and danced some more. Ryusuke beamed. It was a good night so far, a beautiful night with a lot of good people in the crowd. After Juice's music died down and the Intermission began and the commentary went off air again, Ryusuke asked Milano how he finally convinced Sanada Seiya to marry him.

“Your friend is about to defend his title against your sworn enemy, and you're asking me how I got my lover to propose?”

“Yup,” Ryusuke replied cheerily. “You never spill when we're out drinking with the others, so I had to ask privately.”

“... We're at one of the summer marquee events, Taguchi.”

“And you found a way to make an Ingobernable go down on one knee,” Ryusuke chirped, deciding to meet him point-for-point.

The older man sighed, adjusting his suit jacket as he eased into his seat. “I love him. What's there to explain?”

“Start with how you managed to make three no's into an engagement party being held a week after Dominion.”

Milano gave him a defensive look before caving. “I told him I wanted to go back to Italy.”

Ryusuke blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I told him that if he wasn't going to marry me, I'd go back to Italy and live out my days in a Milanese cottage,” he said exasperatedly. “I'm retiring, Taguchi.”

It dawned on Ryusuke that he meant retirement as a whole, with no more of that corporate nonsense they had him attached to since he was forced to hang up his tights in 2010. “You're leaving for good.”

Milano nodded. “I'm turning forty-three in August. I can't pretend like I don't have things I want to do, places I want to go back to before I'm too old. It wasn't a threat, by the way. We'd been speaking about separation long before I told him about my retirement. The rumors swirled that he rejected my marriage proposals because Naito couldn't keep his ugly mouth shut, but I suppose there was some truth to it. Seiya didn't want to establish anything formal, and I wanted something to convince me to stay in Japan.”

“... So why'd he ask you to marry him? If separation was on the table, why didn't you break up? He's still got his entire career ahead of him.”

“I told him the G1 Climax 29 would be my final call,” Milano reflected wistfully. “After that, I'd travel for a few months and start watching matches from my apartment instead of the uncomfortable chairs at the commentary desk. I meant it in earnest. I wanted to start over, and since I knew Seiya wouldn't be able to spare me much vacation time, I wanted us to marry so I'd have a reason to come back. I was never a homebody, Taguchi. You know that.”

“Don't I know it.” Ryusuke felt guilty as a melancholic air touched them both. “I'm sorry.”

Milano cracked a lazy smile. “Nothing to be sorry about. We agreed to separate, and a week later, he asked me to marry him. I was due to move out the next day. I said no at first to remind him that we were adults and that hard decisions were a part of life. Plus, he rejected my proposals three times, so I was angry.”

Ryusuke scoffed. “You had every right. Honestly, I'd have punched him if I were you.”

“I was close,” Milano agreed. “But then the bastard told me that he took the week to dwell on it, and he realized that he wanted me to come home. No matter where I went, who I visited- he wanted me to come home to him at the end of the day. I asked him why that didn't compute the first three times I asked him, and he told me the reality didn't hit until I'd started packing my things. Apparently he had a panic attack the day I was off prepping the new apartment in Nagoya, and he spent the time recovering at Naito and Bushi's house. He told me that's when he realized that he didn't want to live without my blessed existence by his side, and hauled his ass to the ring store with the Ingobernables to find me a rock.”

Ryusuke looked at the silver band studded with diamonds and garnets resting around Milano's ring finger. “It's a beautiful rock with many other tiny rocks,” Ryusuke nodded.

Milano chuckled. “I said yes, and we canceled my appointment with the movers and canceled the apartment application I filed for the sublet in Nagoya. I made him pay the late cancellation fees and had him unpack the stuff and put it all back in its proper place.” Milano raised his hand and showed off the ring that glistened in the bright light of the arena. “Now we're engaged to be married.”

Ryusuke couldn't help the laughter that erupted from his chest. “No shit?”

Milano beamed. “No shit.”

“Sounds like a dream come true,” Ryusuke sighed dreamily.

Milano blushed. “You could say that. By the way, don't tell anyone about the retirement. I'm making the official announcement on the opening day of the G1.”

“My lips are sealed,” Ryusuke promised. “Seriously, you bastard. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Milano said softly.

“Pray I get lucky in love like you did,” he told his friend seriously.

Milano patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. “I'm sure there's someone looking out for you.”

* * *

Kenny Omega's aviators sparkled with the hot pink lights of Osaka-jo Hall. With his leather jacket, black and silver tights, curled locks of hair, and shining black boots- he looked like a movie star. There was an adoration in the arena that couldn't be denied, a kind of reverence you only witnessed with certain people, people who'd give their life to the gods of the ring. Kenny Omega elicited that kind of devotion. Ryusuke chuckled. Tanahashi evoked that kind of love, and over in America, in the WWE, Devitt had invoked that same kind of love from the people watching him. Ryusuke had never been a part of that select group, and supposed he never would be.

Kushida was something else. Ryusuke sat up straight in his seat and beamed from ear to ear as the arena lights turned white. Kushida's music began to thrum across the hall, orange light replaced the white light, and then a mixture of both colors bathed the hall as the reigning Intercontinental champion came down the aisle. Ryusuke almost jumped, but managed to control himself for the champion's sake. The newly ordained Junior Heavyweight champion, Dragon Lee, clapped enthusiastically next to him while Kushida's fiance, Ayako, waved at the Taguchi Japan members from the front row of the audience gathered near the hard camera. Ryusuke felt like his heart was ready to burst. These were his friends, his own, private heroes.

Kushida came down the aisle wearing a faded orange and black leather jacket over a short-sleeved black and orange button down shirt and plain white shorts. Back to the Future logo patches were stitched into the sleeves of the leather, while bright orange cloth lined the hems of his white shorts, complimenting the white and orange boots and knee-pads he'd pulled out for the match. The belt glowed. Kushida had documented its careful upkeep on his social media. Every day, he wiped it down. Every two weeks, he took a toothbrush and cleaning product to the metal and started scrubbing. The only other item he cared for with more precision than the belt was the engagement ring hanging around his neck. Even from his place at the commentary table, Ryusuke could feel the younger man's energy. It was the exuberance of a leader.

It was the aura of a king.

When Omega held out his hand for a handshake, Kushida turned away. He threw the dogtag into the crowd, but passed his engagement ring and its accompanying necklace, his jacket, his shirt, and his belt to Ozaki. The Bucks were no where to be found on this night. They hadn't been invited to participate. Kenny Omega was alone at Dominion 6.22. It was a warm night in Osaka, and after the show had concluded, Ryusuke would pile his friends into the van he rented, and take them all out for hot food and much needed rest at one of his favorite inns. They'd disappear from the public eye for a few days, and leave this night behind them.

But the night had only begun. Ryusuke sighed. Everything seemed unreal, but it wasn't. The men in the ring were as real as Ryusuke, as Milano, as Dragon Lee, as Atsushi Kotoge who hadn't returned to the commentary table. The lights were real, the anticipation real, every bit of pain and happiness they'd experienced over the years as real as the blood that flowed through their veins. Ryusuke took one last breath before a sad smile overtook his expression and the match began.

Kushida provoked Omega's rage early in the match, and Ryusuke wondered if he was the cause behind the violence. The leader of The Elite threw the first knuckle punch, but Kushida threw four more after that. The match descended into an all out brawl within minutes. Tables, chairs, and hairspray came out from underneath the ring, earning the wrath of Red Shoes Unno. And still, Kushida went through three tables and suffered a snap dragon suplex off the top turnbuckle and into a pile of chairs. Red Shoes almost called the match against Omega as a disqualification right then and there, but Kushida weakly rose his right arm and pointed his finger upwards towards the heavens. He was still in the game. Omega sneered, and dragged Kushida back into the ring as if he was nothing but a bloodless ragdoll. At that point, Dragon Lee quietly exited from the commentary aisle, and slipped into the crowd. Ryusuke spied him reassuring a stony-eyed Ayako who'd gone still after the first time Kushida crashed through a table.

Ryusuke himself was now close to panicking- wishing, _praying_ that this didn't end the way Omega wanted it to. Maybe the gods heard his prayers, or maybe Kushida remembered that there was a lot more at stake than just the belt sitting with Soichi Shibata, Milano, and the rest of the commentary team, but either way- fury sparked in Kushida's eyes. Blood trickled from Kushida's broken lip and painted a thin, red line from his mouth down to the base of his throat. Omega made the gesture of offering his hand one more time, but instead of shaking it, Kushida spat on his face. Omega cackled once, letting the bright lights of Osaka-jo Hall bathe his bloodied face, before hitting Kushida with a surprise V-Trigger.

And yet, as the match went on, Ryusuke caught Omega's descent. He caught his anger when Kushida first refused to shake hands with him at the beginning of the match, when Kushida refused again, when Kushida called him a traitor before Omega through him off the apron and into a table, when Kushida stretched both his arms to the limit countless times for naught, when Kushida told him that he wasn't worth the shit beneath Ryusuke's boots, when Kushida caught him in a triangle choke from the side and almost broke his arm and his neck before Omega managed a ropebreak in the eleventh hour.

Ryusuke saw the pain cut into Omega's eyes and felt pity for the man who'd already left behind two homes for New Japan. Was Ibushi watching them right now? Did he know that Omega had done everything in his power to defeat his history- _their_ history? Did he know Omega wore boots with tiny golden stars printed at the calf? That he still couldn't quite bring himself to socialize and flirt with all the available men and women at all the company-sponsored dinners and promotional activities? Did Ibushi know that his former lover was a shell of person now, so desperate for love and affection, but still so corrupted that his only way of earning anyone's attention was through violence and ridicule? Did Ibushi even care?

Bullet Club was no more. The Golden Lovers were no more. Apollo 55 was no more. All that remained were individual men who'd long since moved on with their lives. Ryusuke had moved on, hadn't he? He hadn't thought about Devitt in years. Surely, he was better off than Omega would ever be... right?

Omega's pain killed him in the end. Ryusuke saw it in his eyes, his movements as he faltered, went through a table, and almost lost his life when his head bounced against the concrete. He got in two more V-triggers before his play for a One-Winged Angel turned into a Back to the Future. But Kushida didn't end it there. He let Omega rise one more time, let him make _one_ more effort to try and take the belt back, but Omega failed. His nostrils flared and he managed to spear Kushida onto the mat temporarily. He climbed the ropes, aimed for a moonsault, and got his arm caught midair. Kushida maneuvered one leg over Omega's head, and locked it in. Omega's screams filled the arena. Kushida screamed with him, the Hoverboard in place, the crowd baying for their blood, their spirit, their lives. The moment was as unforgettable as the calm before the storm. Ryusuke suddenly felt the crowd disappear, felt himself vanish from existence as the two men howled into the night, their bodies half-broken, their minds muddled, their fury at the forefront of their devices. Euphoria was replaced with the cold smell of Death, and the everything went black.

Omega tapped. He tapped, and only then did the world resume.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gedo beat me by hours, but I wrote this chapter weeks ago! Alas, enjoy the feels, and please remember to leave a comment!


	9. Beyond the River Styx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Black eyes soaked in the image of a man who'd barely aged since the Demon last laid eyes on him. Five years- it had been five years since the Demon turned on the Young Bucks and Bullet Club for Taguchi Ryusuke. His skin, his hair, the shape of his body remained much of the same. His smell, his presence, his unabated hatred for Fergal- the desolate wasteland became Ryogoku Sumo Hall, and 8,500 people watched as the Demon chose a mere human over everything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a review, and try not to cry!

To Fergal, the crowd looked like a galaxy full of twinkling stars. They'd dimmed the backlights when Dragon Lee and Takahashi came out for their bout, and they kept it that way into the final match of the night. He, Kenta, and Goto followed quietly behind the reigning IWGP Heavyweight champion, a man who wore a simple pair of black trunks, had his hair combed neatly to the side, and his beard trimmed to an appropriate length. Besides that, Shibata Katsuyori was the same- an enigma, a fighter, a hero. Fergal felt at peace following this man.

Omega was no longer in the building, but Kushida had joined the commentary table despite the fact that he'd almost broken Omega's arm not twenty minutes ago. Devitt eyed the man he once knew as a Time Splitter. Not a single groan escaped his lips while the attending Young Lions iced his neck and wrapped thick bandages around his waist. His fiance was sitting next to him, holding his hand and wiping away stray tears. Something clenched inside of him. He didn't know if it was a reminder of a time lost, or a longing for a beloved of his own that would hold his hand after a heavy battle. Either way, he felt like an intruder, like he didn't deserve to witness a moment so private yet so mundane.

Ryusuke Taguchi, Juice Robinson, Ricochet, and Dragon Lee were right next to the apron, lined up behind Tanahashi who was dressed like a war god. The forty-two year old man wore long tights and sported a fur-lined, sleeveless jacket. The fabric of the tights was dyed black and gold, just like the jacket and the faux fur. His knee-pads and elbow-pads were both pitch black. Only the wrist and finger tape were a bland white color. Tanahashi had grown out his hair. The long, thick tresses were dyed black for the night, and went down his back in a single braid. The bangs that framed his face were curled and sprayed with glitter. He smiled at Shibata as they stared each other down. He took off his jacket agonizingly slow and showed off the rippling muscles once hidden beneath the cloth. Dark brown skin glittered underneath Osaka-jo Hall's showlights. Tanahashi gave Fergal a knowing smirk as he tossed his jacket over the top rope and into Taguchi's waiting arms.

Fergal's fingers twitched. Turning his attention back to Shibata, Fergal felt guilt begin to bubble in his chest again. Deep down, Fergal feared what the aging Ace would do to Shibata because of the rage geared towards _him._ Shibata didn't deserve Tanahashi's punishment just because Fergal had fucked up. Shibata was never in the question. Tanahashi's vengeance was warranted as Fergal had hurt his friend, returned to a company whose roster didn't want him anymore, and had made far too many enemies that had refused to forgive him after all these years. Shibata didn't deserve to be thrown into the middle of that mess just because Fergal was careless.

And yet, they'd ended up here anyway. He felt Kenta grab his shoulder and squeeze tight. “We're here, and we're together,” he spoke softly into his ear. Goto watched silently from the corner while Shibata turned around once, nodded to all three of them, then turned back around and finally entered the ring. Fergal felt telltale tears prickle his eyes, but he shook them off before they could spill from his eyes. They were here, and that was all there was to it. This was the house they built together.

The IWGP Heavyweight Championship belt pulsed intensely, like a beacon on a lonely shore. At the commentary table, Fergal spied a steely-faced Okada and an equally grim Gedo. They both had their eyes trained on Goto. The inclination to protect scratched at Fergal's psyche, and he moved closer to the bigger man, close enough that Kenta followed and they were thus able to form their own little cluster in the corner while Ozaki finished announcing Shibata's name.

Fergal expected blood, and that's exactly what he got.

If Shibata lived for his pride, then Tanahashi lived to destroy it. How they managed to forgive each other once upon a time was beyond Fergal. There was poison in the air, a malignancy that scraped at Fergal's skin. He shuddered constantly, but the blight didn't stop him from guarding Goto from Okada's gaze at one point, and then Kenta from Tanahashi's hisses whenever Kenta's rage flickered. Shibata's grunts and yells of “back the fuck off!” barely managed to keep the rest of PRIDE out of the ring as he clutched his abdomen after stiff knee-strike after knee-strike. But Fergal was stronger now- when Kenta almost jumped onto the apron to grab Tanahashi's hair, Fergal wrapped an arm around his shoulder and held him back from making a mistake and earning Red Shoes's wrath.

Rough elbows-strikes, stiff kicks, cussing from both sides, and spittle gave Osaka a show to remember. At the thirty minute mark, the crowd rose to its feet when Shibata's PK was turned into an ankle lock that caused a guttural howl to spill from the champion's bloody mouth. Tanahashi screamed with him, maneuvering his hold so that he could face the rest of Taguchi Japan. When he fully locked in the submission move, he made eye-contact with Taguchi.¹

A demon howled. It wasn't the demon stalking Osaka-jo Hall, or the one that carried misfortune for Kenny Omega in its pocket. No- this was a different demon. This demon reached from the depths of Fergal's soul and clenched his bleeding heart in its black hand. _Akuma_ _,_ ² he remembered Shinpei Nogami once utter with dread. Fergal's vision clouded, and suddenly, it was just him, Tanahashi, the ring, Shibata's screams, and Taguchi's fearful eyes. He felt his skin burn while the monster's aura oozed from his pores and colored his pale skin red, black, purple, and green. A second maw opened near the base of his throat. Black ink spilled into the clear, blue oceans of his irises and turned them into a pair of abysses.

The path to Taguchi, to _Ryusuke_ , was clear. His legs were now the Demon's, and every step it took managed to make one more man disappear. Shibata and Tanahashi melted into the inky void. The poisonous air of Osaka-jo Hall became the hot, arid climate of a desolate wasteland. The ring crumbled, turned to dust, and burned with the cruel beams of the hot sun. In the end, there wasn't a single living creature but the Demon and Taguchi Ryusuke.

Fergal felt his fingers move on their accord. It was like this that night too, wasn't it? The Demon wore his body while he was safely tucked away in his head. They'd agreed to fight _together_ for their right to stay in New Japan. They were one person, after all, one soul, one man with too many emotions and too much rage. How many times had he lied to them, to _himself,_ told everyone that the Demon was a second soul locked away in the depths of his core? That it only came out when it had to, that it was just a _thing_ to be used in times of duress, a tool, not a man?

Enough times- enough times that on a bleak night many, many years ago, a Demon walked away from its jailor and found solace in a human being. It was like this that night too, wasn't it? The Demon's fingers, _Fergal's_ fingers, found themselves cupping supple, pockmarked skin. His fingers grazed against a well-kept beard and thumbed over acne scars that had softened over the years. Black eyes soaked in the image of a man who'd barely aged since the Demon last laid eyes on him. Five years- it had been five years since the Demon turned on the Young Bucks and Bullet Club for Taguchi Ryusuke. His skin, his hair, the shape of his body remained much of the same. His smell, his presence, his unabated hatred for Fergal- the desolate wasteland became Ryogoku Sumo Hall, and 8,500 people watched as the Demon chose a mere human over everything else.

Before he knew it, he found his fingers gripping the base of Taguchi's neck, beckoning his forehead against Fergal's. His fingers found themselves tangled in soft, black hair smelling of fresh sweat. The Demon gripped, Fergal gripped- this is how they showed love, wasn't it? They possessed. They took, and they took, and they took, and when they couldn't take anymore, they destroyed everything until the one that loved them the most began to hate them too. Ryusuke was like the sun. He shined, even on the darkest of days, even on the night they were meant to die together and end their blood feud for good. When Ryusuke wouldn't bow his head, the Demon closed the space between them and forced their foreheads to meet. Flushed skin pressed against flushed skin, and the Demon was five years in the past, making amends the right way, choosing his best friend over his Club, choosing his heart over his hatred, choosing peace over an existence of never-ending misery.

But it wasn't five years ago, they weren't in Ryogoku, and the man in front of him no longer cared for him. They weren't in front of 8,500 people, the Bucks weren't there, the arena wasn't bathed in darkness, the people weren't calling for Fergal's blood. They were back in Osaka-jo, the referee was screaming at Shibata, Taguchi Japan was almost upon him, PRIDE was scrambling after him, and then there was Ryusuke.

Then there was Ryusuke who'd wrapped his own fingers around Fergal's throat, who'd began squeezing the life out of him as his muddy brown eyes blazed with hatred for Fergal's entire being. The Demon receded back into its cave as quickly as it had once come out, Fergal's skin was back to its alabaster color, but his face flushed red with the lack of oxygen as his friend, his other half squeezed the life out of him. It was like this that night too, wasn't it? Fergal had gone for Ryusuke's hip, the same hip that had to be repaired with painful surgeries. He'd kicked him, smacked him, cursed at him, told him that he hated him, he'd lied over and over again while the tears pooled in his eyes and Ryusuke became angry, became _so_ angry that he was able to put the final bullet in the Demon's head.

And that was the truth, wasn't it? The Demon was dead, Fergal had died too- whoever had returned from the States was someone else. This man didn't deserve what was in front of him, or what was behind him, or anything at all. And yet, if there was retribution, then this was it. The death of a Demon at the hands of a mere human. A bullet for a demon and one for its beloved- the death of Hades at the hands of Persephone.

A flurry of hands broke them apart, and air returned to Fergal's lungs. Taguchi lunged at him, but was held back by a ragged Kushida and an angry Juice Robinson. Goto and Kenta dragged him to their corner and began checking up on him while Red Shoes continued screaming at the legal contenders in the match. Goto softly massaged his throat and told him to breathe through his nose while Kenta held him in his arms. A Young Lion applied a cold compress to his throat, but when Fergal's eyes finally left Taguchi's furious form, they fell on Shibata choking the life out of Tanahashi in the ring. Fergal gasped again, tears springing from his eyes as Tanahashi began to go limp in Shibata's arms.

Red Shoes screamed for Shibata to let go, but he refused. With the sleeper hold locked in, the crowd howled for their Ace's blood, his life, his holy defeat at the hands of the People's Champion. Finally, when Tanahashi couldn't raise his hand anymore, Red Shoes called the match. Katsuyori had retained his IWGP Heavyweight Championship via KO from a brutal sleeper hold. Dropping Tanahashi's body in the middle of the ring, he didn't even wait for Red Shoes to raise his hand in victory. He immediately rolled out of the ring and took refuge next to Fergal who was breathing normally again.

“Shi-Shibata,” Fergal wheezed in awe.

“You good, Asshole?” He panted, sweat drenching the concrete beneath their bodies.

“What happened?”

Shibata shook his head. “You went for Taguchi; Tana snapped. My ankle's shot, but it's not broken. I got him when he floundered. Two minutes. It took sixty seconds to break out of that ankle lock, take him down, kick the shit out of him, and get him in that sleeper- all because you decided to get handsy.” Shibata laughed wryly. “I'd break your fucking jaw if Taguchi hadn't already tried to strangle you. Which, by the way, you deserve. Fucking asshole,” he laughed.

The title ended up around Shibata's waist eventually, and while Kenta, Goto, and Shibata shared a smile while Young Lions looked after both Fergal and Shibata, Fergal's eyes traveled back into the ring where Tanahashi's head was lying prone in Taguchi's lap. Fergal's heart clenched in his chest as he watched Taguchi cup Tanahashi's face and hold him close, much like he once held Fergal close after brutal bouts that stole the breath from Fergal's lungs and left him useless on the floor. That luxury belonged to Taguchi Japan now, to Tanahashi. Fergal tried to tear his eyes away from the private moment between comrades, but his gaze wouldn't budge. He caught tears slip from Taguchi's eyes and land on Tanahashi's face.

And so that's how demons died- in pain, wracked with guilt, burdened by regret, and covered in shame. Fergal closed his eyes and willed his heart to be silent.

* * *

Dinner was at Fergal's apartment on the 26th, a boring Wednesday for a bunch of boring, middle-aged men nearing forty. Except- one of them _had_ turned forty, and he'd turned forty the day before. Goto celebrated his birthday with his friend and family on the 25th, but the 26th was exclusively for his friends. Fergal had taken up the responsibility of opening his home to his friends while Kenta helped him cook a full meal. Shibata- no, _Katsuyori,_ was on his third glass of red wine and threatening to strip. Goto sang soulfully into a hairbrush as the karaoke music filtered throughout the apartment. Fergal was on his sixth can of raspberry soda and tempted to go down to the convenience store and grab another dozen of the caffeinated drinks. They were better than he expected, and he wanted to be awake for whatever shenanigans they'd eventually take part in as soon as Katsuyori stripped down to his trunks.

“I just wanna say one thing!”

Kenta, still on his first glass of wine and piling cabbage onto his plate, side-eyed one of his oldest friends. “You've been talking since you got here.”

Katsuyori gasped, scandalized. “No, I haven't!”

Fergal, who'd finally managed to shut off the karaoke music and pile Goto and Katsuyori around the table topped with various foods and drinks, patted Katsuyori on the shoulder. “Don't worry, you have a very nice voice.”

Katsuyori huffed but nodded. “Thank you.”

Kenta rolled his eyes and went back to his wine while Goto stared intently at his plate. Bristled, Kenta poked Goto. “What's wrong?”

“This food,” Goto said gruffly, “it looks delicious.” He nodded once and practically shoved the beef down his throat.

“This is why we don't let them drink until _after_ dinner,” Kenta drawled. Fergal laughed out loud. Kenta gave him a long look before cracking a smile himself. The night was still young, and the food was hot.

It was, in every essence, a moment of peace.

* * *

“I passed all the necessary tests and evaluations,” Fergal said softly. They were seated by his veranda with hot cups of tea as Goto and Katsuyori sobered up. After all the food and rowdy conversation, a sense of calm blanketed their thoughts. “I'll be able to participate in the G1 Climax 29. Chairman Sugabayashi called me about the contract right before Kenta arrived this morning, and now I'm set to sign the papers tomorrow afternoon at the corporate office.”

“And before he called you, he called me to tell me that the acquisition went through. The lawyers drew up the final contract and had it signed the day after Dominion.” Kenta took a sip of his hot tea and stared at the empty space next to Fergal. “NOAH is now an official subsidiary of New Japan Pro-Wrestling. We'll be integrated into the roster over the next few months, starting with a round of our heavyweights participating in the G1- just like it should have been in 2016.”

Goto sighed. “It's a tough pill to swallow.”

“But it's one we'll _have_ to swallow,” Kenta sighed.

“But you're among friends,” Katsuyori groused. “Don't ever think you're alone. At the end of the day, you're all my brothers. If anyone fucks with you, they fuck with me, and they're not gonna like what comes after them when they fuck with me.”

“Oh, we know,” Goto pointed out.

Fergal frowned. “It's all coming together. Doesn't feel real, but it is.”

Katsuyori nodded. “It's how these things are. They just... happen. I almost died, but I didn't. I came back, and now I'm here. If there's one thing you can count on in life, it's for fate to fuck you over, but then pull you right back up. Can't expect any rhyme or any reason. Just... live. You just live, and you get used to it.”

“And you accept it,” Kenta added. “You get used to it, and you accept it.”

“You accept it,” Fergal repeated.

Did he accept it? Did he accept his truth, the truth that he realized when he forced Taguchi's forehead to rest against his own at Dominion, when he went deep into his memories and played out a moment that never existed, when he tried to right a wrong that was buried deep in the past? Did he accept his loss? Did he accept his shame, his regret, his burden of carrying his feelings in his chest forever?

Did he accept it?

* * *

After a lot of tears, copious amounts of hugging, and promises to visit the States during their vacation days, Ryusuke, Tanahashi, Juice, Kushida, and Dragon Lee bid their friend Ricochet farewell. They stayed in the waiting area until Ricochet texted that the plane was ready to take off. When they were sure the plane was in the air, they piled into Tanahashi's car, and drove back into the suburbs. Tanahashi dropped them off one by one, with Ryusuke being last. With the threat of more tears, Ryusuke quickly said goodbye before scrambling out of the car and shutting the door behind him. He felt Tanahashi's eyes burn into his back as he made his way to the front door. Once he was inside, he hid from his friend's sight until he heard the car drive away. Only then did he allow himself to slump against the wall and let a few more tears slide down his face.

He knew he and Tanahashi would have to talk about Dominion eventually, but it had barely been a week since the show, and tonight wasn't the night. Rico was gone, and now they were down one friend. There was only so much Ryusuke could process in a day.

He raised his head to the mailbox that had his name engraved into it. He hadn't checked it since the day before Dominion, and now it was Wednesday. He sighed and got up before shuffling around his pockets for his mailbox key. Once procured, he shoved it into the keyhole, clicked it open, and let half a week's worth of mail spill into his arms. The biggest piece of mail wasn't a laminated advertisement like he usually received, but instead a crème colored envelope that was much too formal, much too fancy to be a bill, an advert, or fanmail forwarded to his home from the corporate offices. Ryusuke smiled. It had to be Milano and Sanada's wedding invitation. Their engagement weekend bash was a mere week away, and Ryusuke hadn't even packed his vacation bag yet. Unable to shake off his curiosity, he sat down in front of the mailboxes and opened up the big envelope.

His smile slipped into a frown when he found that the envelope was unnamed. Inside was a purple and gold card that had a handwritten note asking him to coffee at a posh little place in Nerima the next day. He wasn't sure when the note had been delivered, but the coffee date was for tomorrow morning at eight am, and it was already almost midnight. Ryusuke gulped. Did Cold Skull want to to spook the guests even before the engagement party? Why the hell had Milano let him make the wedding cards? Ryusuke made a mental note to text Tanahashi of his whereabouts before he ventured out for the meeting. He hoped Milano had a reason for all the coyness.

He gathered the mail and took it upstairs into his apartment. When he went to bed that night, he dreamed in purple and gold.

* * *

“I'm in love with him.”

Kenta, Katsuyori, and Goto all nodded simultaneously. Kenta was the first to speak after the revelation. “I figured.”

“The way you held his face that night is the way I hold my wife's face every time I have to go away,” Goto admitted. “It's... nice. Holding someone close enough to touch their forehead with your own? There's a certain kind of peace in it. Makes _me_ feel like I can take on the whole world.”

“My wife left me because I cheated, but I get it,” Katsuyori drawled. “It's nice- loving someone romantically, that is. I figured that's what was happening, but you didn't seem to catch on at the moment. Watching him cry for Tanahashi triggered it, didn't it? Watching him love and care for someone who wasn't you.” Katsuyori laughed out loud. “That's what made you realize the truth- that's what makes us _all_ realize the truth. When you have to watch the person you love the most love someone else? That's when you realize. That's when you realize how badly you fucked up, and how fucked you _really_ are. Welcome to the old man's club, Asshole. Enjoy your stay.”

Fergal laughed into his cold tea, laughed until the pain in his chest finally quelled with the somber chuckles of his friends. “I love him,” he said. “I love him.”

* * *

Ryusuke walked into the coffee shop the next morning and bowed to the attendant at the front. It was much too fancy for his tastes, but the coffee smelled great, and he was determined to make Milano pay for his first cup. He huffed. If the Italian-Japanese man intended on leaving mysterious cards in a mailbox just because his boyfriend was an Ingobernable, then he was paying for Ryusuke's coffee. His poor self should have been sleeping in, but instead, he was dressed in faded jeans, a t-shirt, and a sweater at eight in the morning in a district far from his own. Hell, he'd make Milano pay for breakfast too!

But it wasn't Milano waiting for him at the table that the attendant had led him to. It was a man twice Milano's body mass, and looking as fresh-faced and handsome as he had since the last time Ryusuke had seen him.

The man rose from his seat and beamed from ear to ear. “Taguchi-san!”

Ryusuke stared, flabbergasted. “Ibushi?”

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¹: The ankle lock is a submission maneuver Taguchi frequently uses.  
> ²: Akuma means 'demon' in Japanese and what the Japanese commentary team calls Fergal's Demon.


	10. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was happiness? Fergal closed his eyes and tried to imagine black hair that curled naturally at the ends. A soft face, crooked teeth, a beautiful smile- there was peace in this image. Fergal felt safe, but most of all, he felt loved. This person loved him once. He loved him a lot, and even though it was too late for Fergal, at least the truth was out now. He loved Taguchi too- and he always would. It was Taguchi Ryusuke now, like it had been five years, like it had been ten years ago.

Ryusuke and Ibushi hugged tightly on a chilly, June morning in Nerima, Tokyo. They'd been friends for years now, but had limited contact with each other since Ibushi decided to travel the world.

“Congratulations on the engagement,” he gushed as soon as they sat down. “When the hell do we get to meet the guy? You've been gone for so long, we thought you were already married! How's the weather in Spain, by the way? I'm planning on taking a vacation after the G1. Do they have a good wrestling scene?”

Ibushi laughed while he rambled, but for Ryusuke, the sound was music to his ears. More often than not, if a wrestler went overseas, they didn't return unless they were Japanese natives, and even then, they didn't come back for years. When Ibushi had revealed that he'd gotten engaged to a Spanish man of Japanese ancestry, Taguchi had given him his blessings via email and wished him the best. That was all he could do. The world was fast moving towards a different era, an era that didn't consider distance to be of grave importance. Even if Ibushi participated in the G1 this year, he'd be on a flight back home to his husband within hours of the Climax concluding. It was just how these things were nowadays. No one had time to waste. Life was for the living, after all.

Ryusuke finally shut his mouth when the coffee and pastries appeared at the table. He hadn't even ordered anything. He looked at the steaming cups and bountiful plates with awe while Ibushi continued to laugh heartily. He shrugged and dug in, his friend following suit. After several minutes of eating and sipping at the tasty coffee, Ibushi finally cleared his mouth and spoke. “Ready to meet my fiance?”

Ryusuke blinked. “You didn't get married?”

Ibushi shook his head enthusiastically. “What's the point of getting married if you can't set off firecrackers in a crowd full of wrestlers dressed in suits and dresses?”

Ryusuke frowned. “But it's been so long- why not just throw one in Spain with your groom's family?”

He became suspicious when Ibushi started laughing out loud again. Spain-san had to be a patient man to deal with a creature as aloof as Ibushi. Did he break out into peals of laughter when Spain-san wanted to discuss the bills? Did Ibushi laugh at his in-laws? Ryusuke managed to crack a smile in the end. Ibushi was weird, but he was _weirder._ If Spain-san agreed to marry him, then he must be used to Ibushi's uncanny personality.

When Ibushi finally stopped laughing, the mood turned somber. “Thank you for being my friend all these years, Taguchi.”

Ryusuke's face fell. “What's wrong, Ibushi? Did something happen?”

“Nothing, Taguchi, everything is... going perfectly well- really well, actually. I'm getting married in August. I want you to come.”

“I'll be there,” Ryusuke said without skipping a beat, not even asking _when,_ because it could've been in the middle of the G1, and Ryusuke would've gladly skipped it for his friend's wedding.

Ibushi nodded. “Thank you. Daisuke's gonna be thrilled- I think.”

“Aww, so his name's Daisuke? That's so cute. Does Sasaki know his former tag mate's fiance shares his first name? Have you told DAMNATION yet? I saw Ishikawa and Paulie at a karaoke bar a few weeks ago, and they seemed to be in high spirits.” Ibushi broke into a giggle fit again. Ryusuke scoffed. “Why are you laughing?”

“I'm marrying Daisuke,” Ibushi managed to croak through his laughter. He displayed the engagement band on his left hand.

Now that Ryusuke finally got a good look at the thing, he realized it was a gold band laid with tiny diamonds and amethysts. Purple, white, and gold- Ryusuke blinked. The card had been purple and gold. The colors gold and white were recurring motifs with Ibushi, but why purple?

When it clicked, Ryusuke let out a a high-pitched gasp. “Oh my god!” Ibushi nodded as he continued to laugh. Ryusuke willed his heart to be still. “Sasaki? You're marrying _Sasaki Daisuke?_ What the hell, man! He's not Spanish!” And with that, Ibushi lost himself completely to the giggles while Ryusuke tried to piece the revelation together in his head. “August... you're getting married in August? Peter Pan's in August!”

“Ryogoku Peter Pan 2019,” Ibushi confirmed with a beaming smile. “Right before he defends his KO-D against Konosuke. Our wedding ceremony is semi-maineventing!”

“You have got to be shitting me,” Ryusuke murmured. “This whole time- this _whole time_ it was him! What the hell! _And how!?_ ”

Ibushi's peals of laughter died down and his bright smile softened into a wistful one. “I don't know where to start. 2016 maybe? I don't know, Taguchi, it just happened... and it felt right.”

“Start where you're comfortable,” Ryusuke placated him. He poured two glasses of water, and slid one glass towards Ibushi. “Because we can't have beer this early- now talk.”

“We slept together a few times. That's normal, right?” Ryusuke nodded and Ibushi continued. “We slept together but we didn't talk about it. I wasn't around long enough for there to even _be_ a conversation, and he had his eyes set on making sure DAMNATION dominated DDT. A relationship wasn't factored into our plans, so we left it at that. The first time it happened was the night after we wrestled against each other after a year of no contact- that was the first time we became intimate. It happened a few more times after that when I came around to visit friends, then nothing, then some hellos here and there, and then I realized I wanted to go out and grab some dinner without our friends around. It always happened after dinner and drinks with the roster. Sometimes we ate with DAMNATION and Takagi-san, sometimes I ate with Takagi-san and went back to the hotel and asked him if he wanted to spend the night with me, and sometimes he knocked on my hotel room door after dinner with his stablemates. You know when you can just _be_ with someone without asking for anything? That feeling of complete peace that comes with being around someone who doesn't want anything more than you're willing to give? Every time we were together those first few months, I just wanted to fall asleep after we were done. I didn't want to go back to my room, or tell him to leave mine, or go home. I just wanted to fall asleep next to him. That's how peaceful it was.”

“... yeah,” Ryusuke admitted. “Yeah, I know how that feels.” He remembered drunken nights that didn't include any kissing or sex, but love wasn't all that, right? Prince Devitt had never touched Ryusuke's lips with his own, but he'd still fallen in love. They'd never slept together, but they'd slept _next_ to each other, and Ryusuke had never felt more at peace. Even with Devitt snoring, or babbling drunkenly, or just the two of them lying down side by side and staring at the stars- there was peace. There was love, even if it was one-sided.

“Maybe that's where it started.” Ibushi sighed. “When I realized I had feelings for him, I ran away. I didn't contact anyone in DDT except for Takagi-san. I even told Gohta not to mention my name to the roster. I flew around. At first, it was hard. We'd never exchanged numbers after I came back. Even when we were Golden Storm Riders, it was because _he_ offered the partnership. I never offered anything. I loved Kenny, and I wanted to be with him. I wanted to be the king of wrestling. I wanted to please wrestling fans all over the world. I wanted my own happiness.”

“You missed him,” Ryusuke chuckled sadly.

“I didn't expect to,” he admitted. “I've had casual sex with people before, but I didn't- I didn't feel _bad_ about it. It was just sex. It wasn't supposed to mean anything.”

“But there was a kinship,” Ryusuke said, “and you couldn't deny that he'd become more than just an acquaintance.”

“You know when you realize you're fucked? It's a bad time. I drank for three days straight and stayed at my parents' mansion. My mom asked me if I was having second thoughts about returning to puroresu, and I told her no. I told her I was in love and she _laughed._ She was scared I was drinking because of work. After she stopped laughing, she kicked my ass and told me to sober up.”

“Your mom can wrestle?”

“Judo,” Ibushi corrected, “former champion.”

“Bless,” Ryusuke said reverently.

“I bought him roses,” Ibushi smiled. “I told him I was in love with him in the middle of a snow storm. He couldn't run.”

“You evil bastard.”

“I _almost_ got lucky, but Tetsuya was waiting for him inside his truck rental, so I knew I couldn't _make_ him listen to me. How do you explain to someone you've known for _years_ that you've fallen in love with them? That even when you _could_ have been with them, you chose not to? He caught Kenny and I making out so many times, Taguchi, _how_ was I supposed to convince him that I didn't love Kenny anymore?”

“Shit,” Ryusuke cursed. “You can't. Fuck, that must have been terrible.”

Ibushi nodded. “The worst. He punched me in the jaw and almost broke it. He didn't even bother to say anything- just got into Tetsuya's truck and drove off. It was two am and it was snowing. I don't know where they went that night, but I ended up drinking and crying in the hotel bar until the bar shut down. It's funny, you know. Paulie-san and Shuji-san kept me company.”

“Where'd you get the roses?”

Ibushi flicked a piece of pastry at him while Ryusuke's laughed. “Asshole,” Ibushi smiled. “From the flower shop inside the hotel. I guess they had a greenhouse somewhere.”

“Still, nice of you to get your man off-season flowers. So what changed his mind? Endo try to kill you or something?”

Ibushi shook his head. “I had to leave a few days later for a show in Estonia. I managed to get Daisuke's number from Shuji-san. I sent him texts, selfies of myself to prove that it was _me_ texting and not some stranger. I tried calling him too. He ignored all of it. That was in February of 2017. In June, he finally responded to tell me Tetsuya won the King of DDT tournament. I had just arrived the day before for the G1. I was... I don't know, Taguchi. I had given up pursuing him, but I was still in love. Every day I spent wandering about, wrestling, eating, hanging out with my friends- I wondered how it would feel like to share a plate of food with him. We'd never gone on a proper date- ever. I'd never held his hand outside the privacy of one of our hotel rooms. No one knew we'd slept together, not even DAMNATION. For a while, I thought I imagined it all, but then I read the texts I sent, and it hurt. It hurt because it was real. I was in love, and I wanted him to be in love with me too.”

“Before the the G1 started, I saw him at dinner with Taka and Oishi. I was with Gohta, and when Oishi saw us, he waved us over. We had dinner and drinks, and it was nice. Afterwards, I didn't invite him to my hotel for sex, and he didn't invite me. We went our separate ways, but the next morning, he sent me a text telling me where he and Shuji-san were meeting for snacks before a house show. I confirmed, and practically flew over to join them. We set up training dates and talked about our future plans. It was a good time. We met up with the rest of DAMNATION a few times. Sometimes, I saw him eating with his other friends, and didn't impose. Sometimes, he ate alone. I didn't want to bother him, you know? We hadn't slept together in a long time by then, so we were just friends. I was happy with that. I'd gotten over Kenny, I could get over Daisuke too. It would take time, but at least this time around, Daisuke _wanted_ to be my friend. Kenny, at that point, wouldn't even acknowledge me unless he wanted to tell everyone how much he hated me.”

“Omega never hated you, and never said anything like that,” Ryusuke reminded him.

“He might as well have,” Ibushi said softly.

“So how'd he come around?” Ryusuke gestured to the ring around his finger. “He must have had a change of heart somewhere along the way.”

“Best of the Super Juniors 2012,” Ibushi said wistfully. “He'd been in love with me far longer than I'd been in love with him.”

“No kidding.” Ryusuke let out a long breath. “All those years?”

Ibushi shook his head. “He got over it after I left the promotion. Then he fell in love with Candice Lerae. At the time we were sleeping together, he was using me to get over her. Don't worry, you can laugh.”

“The American wrestler? He was in love with her for real? I thought he was just being an asshole!”

Ibushi shook his head. “He really loved her. When she rejected him, it cut him deep. He punched me because he was pissed off the person he loved _now_ didn't want him, but the person he loved before _did.”_

“Yeah, I'd be pissed too,” Ryusuke agreed.

“But he told me he loved me. We finally slept together again after the G1. This time it was after a proper date. We went to a restaurant in Yokohama and shared a table. It was just us. I don't ever remember us eating together alone before that night. Afterwards, we took a walk through the city before heading back to the hotel. We slept together, like we actually _slept together._ We stayed in the same bed after sex. Neither of us disappeared. I woke up to him drooling on my chest!”

Ryusuke laughed with him. “That nice, huh?”

Ibushi nodded happily. “He's so pretty when he's resting. I held him for over an hour until he woke up. He looked so offended that I let him oversleep.”

“And that was the end of it, huh? No more pretending?”

“No more pretending,” Ibushi repeated. “We made love that morning. Best sex I'd ever had, Taguchi. I won't lie, I considered commitment right then and there.”

“That's rich considering you were refusing to marry after Kenny broke up with you. We were sending you proposals from other gay men!”

“I was young,” Ibushi whined.

“You were over thirty!”

Ibushi pouted. “I wanted to be with the right guy.”

“Why didn't you marry Kenny?”

“Because it would have ruined his career,” Ibushi admitted.

Ryusuke coughed. “I'm sorry for bringing it up. I-”

“-don't worry about it. It's weird, I know. Any other timeline, I _would_ be marrying Kenny, but not in this one. I've moved on. Honestly, Taguchi- he's still one of my closest friends. Even if he still hates me, he's still a part of my life. I love Daisuke now, but I want Kenny to come to Ryogoku.”

“Would Sasaki approve?”

“Yes. We were all friends, once. It's not something we can just erase.”

Just like Ryusuke couldn't erase Devitt. How many times had he unconsciously hit the Prince Devitt pose? How many times had he flown over the top rope and flattened an opponent with a flying senton? How many times did Devitt bleed into his veins without his permission?

“But enough on Kenny. When Daisuke and I formally began our relationship, we knew we couldn't open our mouths. There was too much at stake. It wasn't like it was before when we partnered out of whim more than anything else. We were going two different places. Daisuke changed, Taguchi. Before, he just floated from day to day, but now, there's short-term goals, and long-term goals, and a while back, he still had feelings for Candice. None of that included me at the time.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

Ibushi shrugged. “I've always had a floating heart too. Wrestling is... my everything, just like wrestling is Daisuke's everything. I was competing in Argentina when I realized I loved Daisuke _because_ he was finally in charge of his destiny. He didn't need me, and even though it hurt, I was happy. He was his own man. And Taguchi? He did the one thing no one else would do for me. He accepted me for who I was without shaming me. That's when I realized I wanted to marry him. I wanted to help him realize his dream. I wanted to wrestle across the globe, but I wanted to go home to him. I wanted to hear his stories, and I wanted to tell him mine. I... I wanted it, Taguchi. _I want it now._ That's why I'm marrying him.”

Ryusuke grinned. “When did you ask him to marry you?”

“In the beginning of December back in 2017. He said yes.”

“Organically?”

“We were watching a movie and drinking beer in my apartment. I dropped the ring into his mug before I gave it to him. He almost choked on the ring.”

“.... and he didn't leave you?”

“He coughed out the ring, punched me in the eye this time, and then said yes. We went to sleep with a packet of cold vegetables over the bruise.”

“Sounds romantic.”

“It was. Now we're here.” Ibushi stretched and smiled. “That's when I started telling people I was engaged to a Spanish man. I couldn't tell the _whole_ truth, but I could tell _some_ of it. I don't suppose I'll ever conquer anyone ever again, but being with Daisuke makes me happy. Watching him thrive made me want to keep going, Taguchi. We text when we're in different cities, different countries, you name it. He checks up on me, but he lets me be. And when I see how happy he is traveling, wrestling, and leading DAMNATION, I want to help. I want to be continue making him happy. I want to hear his stories, Taguchi.”

“Sounds like a dream come true.”

“It is. He climbed to the top and now he'll defend his right to stay there. I just... I can't see myself at the top anymore. I don't _want_ to be at the top. I want to be happy, and I'm happiest when I'm floating around in the indies, overseas, _everywhere._ Maybe that's why we're together now.”

“People change, and so do their priorities.”

“So does love,” Ibushi added. “I never thought I'd love another person after Kenny, but I was wrong. It's amazing, you know? You think your whole life is over after the love of your life leaves you behind, but then you realize- is that it? Is that all you've ever been? Someone's lover?”

Ryusuke gulped. “Hm.”

“I finally realized how Kenny felt- to be trapped in a cage built by your own hands. It's a painful existence. I had to leave to grow up, and I did. Then I came back, fell in love with someone different, and now here we are.”

“Here we are.”

“Sometimes, love starts with a wrestling match,” Ibushi chuckled. “Or maybe a pool. He suplexed me into a pool. God, I love him so much.”

Ryusuke laughed with him. “I'm starting to fall in love with him too. Easy, Ibushi, you might ignite a love triangle.”

“I'll fight you for him,” Ibushi warned.

“And I'll beat you,” Ryusuke promised.

“Stop,” he whined again.

“No!” Ryusuke said with glee. After some more pastry flinging, downing their glasses of water and coffee, and asking for refills, they resumed their conversation. “So you're finally getting married. Good. What are you up to until then?”

Ibushi chuckled. “I'll be hosting my engagement with Daisuke in Italy... along with Milano and Sanada.”

Ryusuke froze. “... what.”

“If you're curious, Milano suggested it a week after Sanada proposed. He figured since Los Ingobernables and his crowd made up 45% of our friend circle, if I invited my own and Daisuke invited his, we'd have 97% of the puroresu and lucha libre scenes at the party. We thought- why not host both engagements on the same weekend and save everyone the trouble of having to attend two formal events and have to cancel work because of it? With two engagements making one party, everyone goes home happy!”

“How the fuck did you two even agree on a venue?” Ryusuke asked in awe.

“We were having lunch one day a few months back when I finally told him I was marrying Daisuke. I couldn’t help it- I had to talk to someone about it that wasn't a family member or Takagi-san, and Gohta was ready to wring my neck after I dragged him around Roppongi to shop for the ring.”

“You filthy rich bitch,” Ryusuke chuckled. “Roppongi? God, I hate you!”

Ibushi winked. “Tetsuya, Shuji-san, and Paulie-san poked fun at me, so I spilled the beans to Milano, and started bothering _him_ about my marital woes.”

“You! You were the one who put the idea of marriage into Milano's head!” Ibushi fluttered his eyes innocently while Ryusuke downed another glass of water. “We knew Milano was getting old, but marriage? It was a surprise when we heard, but now it's happening!”

“Love is alive,” Ibushi sing-songed. “Oh, come on! I just needed a friend to bounce ideas off of! I didn't know he'd start dropping hints to Sanada!”

“But that's how it happens! One friend gets engaged, then suddenly the whole friend group is getting married! You planned this!”

“Hm.”

“You're cute, but not cute enough. I've known you for too long!”

“Aren't you going to ask why now?””

“Huh?”

“We kept it quiet all this time, but now we're going public, and we're getting _married._ Like, for real. Aren't you curious?”

“I mean, you and Sasaki are barely forty, but both of you have been wrestling for almost twenty years. How much longer could you have hid it anyway?”

“Not long,” Ibushi agreed. “To be fair, I thought we'd be engaged forever. There was no wedding date in sight, and we weren't looking to set one. But then, Milano-san asked if I could help him book a trip to the States. He wanted to visit his old mentors and friends. It had been a long time since he'd seen them in person. That's when I realized that he was intending to finish his contract with New Japan. Maybe not quit altogether, but I sensed that he was ready to move on with his life, so I helped him prepare.”

Ryusuke's eyes widened in shock. “You knew he was planning to leave Sanada.”

Ibushi nodded. “He wanted single-person accommodations. It was... surreal. Technically, we both began our relationships around the same time. I asked Daisuke to marry me so quickly because we'd known each other for so long, and I was determined, but it seemed too early for them. He and Sanada only really connected in 2016. I supposed that was their fate. Sanada has his whole life ahead of him.”

“He does,” Ryusuke agreed.

“But Milano asked anyway, but Sanada said no at the time. I guess Milano really wanted a reason to come back. After I realized Milano was planning on leaving, I asked Daisuke if we could do it. It wouldn't even have to be a thing, we could just sign the papers in Nagoya and quietly move into an apartment together while our house was being built. I was so scared. I didn't want to lose him to fate or a series of life decisions that didn't include me. I _wanted_ to matter, and I wanted him to know that _we_ mattered.”

“And that's when the plans started.”

Ibushi nodded. “Not too long after, it turned out Sanada changed his mind, so now here we are. By then, Daisuke and I agreed to hold the wedding at Peter Pan. Most of our oldest friends are going to be there, and so many of our fans. It just... it feels right.”

Ryusuke didn't know he was crying until felt the moistness on his cheek. He didn't feel ashamed though, because Ibushi was wiping his own tears away. Had it really been that long? It seemed like just yesterday that they were wrestling for the right to call themselves the best junior heavyweight in Japan. They were fresh-faced, barely thirty, just getting their foot in the door. Now, flash forward almost ten years later, they were completely different people... and yet so much like their old selves.

“So it's really happening,” Ryusuke whispered softly.

“It is. After so long... it's happening.”

Ryusuke checked his watch and realized they'd been talking for the better part of two hours, and yet, it felt like they had just sat down. They finished their food in peaceful silence, making small talk until they'd had their fill and were ready to return to their respective homes. They hugged one more time before Ryusuke asked, “and what happens after Italy?”

“I'll see you in the G1,” Ibushi responded.

They parted with bright smiles. Ryusuke's heart soared. He was happy. Even if his own love life was in shambles, learning of his friends' love stories come together instilled a sense of hope in his heart. He didn't know who was written in his future, but he hoped that person loved him as much as his friends loved each other.

* * *

“And bring the camera.”

“Shinsuke, please, we have to be nice.”

“But it's a double engagement party! _And_ and the Ingobernables will be there! Plus, Ibushi invited Omega, I saw it on Twitter. Drama, Devitt, we have to capture the drama in real time!”

Shinsuke had called Fergal to tell him that the Nakamura family had received their invitations for Milano, Sanada, Ibushi, and his groom's joint engagement party the week after Dominion. Flight tickets and accommodation slips accompanied the large envelope that held one red and black card and one purple and gold one. Fergal had received his own in the mail in the morning, and had immediately put in his confirmation call like Katsuyori, Kenta, and Goto had the day before.

“If there's any drama, the hardcamera will catch it.”

Shinsuke snickered on the line. “You think they'll film the party?”

“We're wrestlers, Shin,” Fergal chuckled. “We _always_ have film.”

They shared another round of pleasantries and laughs before Shinsuke bid him farewell. As soon as Fergal hung up, his doorbell rang. He opened the door for Katsuyori and Kenta. Settling down at Fergal's dining table, they dug into the snacks he'd prepared and the drinks he'd already poured. He sipped at his own can of peach soda, deep in thought until Kenta snapped him out of his reverie.

“NOAH is no more,” he mused. “Within the next year, whatever's associated with the green mat will disappear. We're holding a farewell show the week before the G1. Kobashi-san agreed to participate in the closing ceremony.”

“I heard Marufuji didn't sign,” Fergal noted.

“Marufuji doesn't have carry the burden anymore,” Kenta sighed. “He's moving over to DDT for good. He runs a good stable with Harashima, and doesn't mind it when All Japan asks him to come help out from time to time. It's just better this way. NOAH... it took his best years. He deserves to be happy, and he seems to be _very_ happy with Harashima.”

“Don't be surprised if they secretly get married,” Katsuyori said gruffly, but with a hint of a smile.

“They can't force him to carry us like he did when he was twenty-five,” Kenta said wistfully. “Everything comes to an end, and this is NOAH's end.” They clinked their cups. “I always hated that bright green color, but I'm gonna miss it.”

“That Misawa mark, Kiyomiya, won't stop wearing the sparkly green trunks, so I don't think you have to worry about the bright green color disappearing,” Katsuyori chuckled.

“Fergal, can I ask you something?” Kenta asked softly.

“Hm?”

“Is it Taguchi that you've fallen in love with, or the memory of your shared past?”

Fergal stilled, unable to answer. Katsuyori fake coughed into his fist and then quickly started stuffing his mouth with the homemade Irish pastries Fergal had prepared for them. Kenta stared intently at Fergal, but he was unable to answer. What could he possibly say to an accusation like _that?_

“You better find out, and you better do it quickly,” Kenta said gravely. “Ibushi's going to introduce his fiance to the world of professional wrestling, and he invited that bastard Omega to come see it. He also invited all of Taguchi Japan. Don't walk into that gathering with your heart on your sleeve. You'll be in a worse position than Omega.”

“I... I won't.”

“He loves him,” Katsuyori interrupted. “I trust Asshole. If he says he's in love, then that's good enough for me- for us.”

They descended into silence, lost in their thoughts.

* * *

“The council meeting is now in session,” Ryusuke said solemnly. “David, stop texting your wife and pay attention!”

David stuck out his tongue from Tanahashi's laptop screen, while Alex's soft laughter filtered from Kushida's laptop. Tanahashi, Dragon Lee, Juice Robinson, Kushida, and Ryusuke were physically gathered in Ryusuke's living room while the rest of Taguchi Japan connected through the Internet. The doors to Ryusuke's balcony was open so that the evening breeze could keep them company.

“I'll go first because it's my house,” Ryusuke said gleefully. Tanahashi rolled his eyes, but Ryusuke just gave him the finger before clapping his hands together twice. “I've made the decision to use the G1 to hone my skills and find a new and _permanent_ tag team partner. I'm giving up my position as a part-time trainer at the dojo.”

“Aiming for a BOSJ, Coach?” Juice teased.

“Yes!!!” Ryusuke practically screeched. “I want more accolades under my belt! I want my future wife or husband to pose naked with me and the trophies!”

“Stop talking,” Tanahashi clipped.

“You shut up,” Ryusuke countered, and they almost got into a slapfight until Kushida cleared his throat.

“I'm glad,” Kushida said sincerely. “It'll be good for you.”

Alex nodded in agreement. “It's a good goal, and we trust you to find the best partner.”

Ryusuke beamed while Tanahashi rolled his eyes but eventually, he begrudgingly admitted that he, too, agreed. Ryusuke winked at his older friend. It wasn't because he was trying to be petty. He truly, from the bottom of his heart, wanted to make sure his last few years in the company meant something. He didn't let it slip then, but forty-five was the goal. After his final show in April of 2024, he wanted to travel the world too. He missed Mexico, missed being able to travel for leisure, missed being able to wake up for _himself_ more than anyone or anything else. He didn't want a bad record or an injury to end his career. He wanted to end his career happy, not beaten and broken. He wanted to take a year off after retirement and then return to train Young Lions full time. By then, he also hoped to be married. He almost cursed Ibushi, but then decided against it. It was a learning lesson. The years had piled up and so had the injuries. The clock was ticking, and Ryusuke wanted it to tick in his favor instead of against him. He wanted a future, and his future was as good as the planning that led up to.

“I want to hold the IWGP belt one more time,” Tanahashi said softly, “but my wife and I, we want another baby. We're holding off on the pregnancy until after the G1, but that's it.” He rubbed his forehead. “She turned forty-three earlier this year. I feel like shit. She wanted the baby in 2016, but I got so caught up with everything else. It's my fault we had to wait this long.”

The rest of the team was silent as they tried to process the information. “Did you... talk to a doctor?” Juice asked hesitantly. “Forty-three's really late- is this a good idea?”

“I don't know,” Tanahashi sighed. “I don't know.”

“But do you want the child?” Kushida asked placidly. “Is this something you've agreed to go forward with together?”

Tanahashi nodded. “We joked about having another baby while the kids were around, and they were so _excited._ We know they'll be fine with a baby sibling. We should have tried for it then, but the 2017 G1 had me so stressed out, and I was injured, and she was working double shifts since she expanded her store... but we wanted another one. We _still_ want one more.”

“Then you should try,” David said softly. “If she's healthy and you can lighten your schedule, then you should do it.”

“There's no shame in moving on to a new chapter in your life, Tanahashi,” Alex advised.

“If I can't win the G1 and have the match at Wrestle Kingdom... I'm giving up wrestling full-time.”

Ryusuke put his hand on Tanahashi's shoulder and squeezed gently. “We'll be right beside you. You're mission's an eternal one- you'll always be our Ace.”

“But, you have to remember, you're also a husband and father,” Kushida added. “You're good people, and even better parents. You shouldn't let this deter you, or make you feel bad. It's not a bad thing. Your wife wouldn't want you to feel this way.”

Tanahashi nodded while stray tears slipped down the dark brown skin of his face. Ryusuke stared at the laugh lines that had become more and more visible with the years. He wanted to embrace his friend, tell him that it was OK. Out of everyone Ryusuke had ever known, he always knew the one who had the hardest time adjusting to life outside wrestling was Tanahashi Hiroshi. Even though he'd gotten married young, he'd never really been _married._ He lived on the road more than he did with his wife. Even though they hadn't become friends until 2015, he'd known the man since he was a Young Lion. Pro-wrestling meant more to Tanahashi than anything else, but he was forced to shift his priorities over the years. Now, he and his family were at a standstill. Tanahashi would have to choose between them and his dream, and though Ryusuke already knew the answer, it hurt him to know that Tanahashi would carry the guilt of disappointing _both_ of his families.

“I'll still fight, and I'll never stop spreading the fighting spirit,” he sniffed, wiping the tears from his eyes. “But I have to take responsibility. I've hurt her a lot over the years- it's time I owned up to it.”

“If she's still by your side, it's because she loves you,” Dragon Lee said, speaking for the first time. “Give her some credit, Coach.”

“Stoooop, I'm supposed to be Coach,” Ryusuke whined.

“You're Head Coach,” Juice clarified.

“Tanahashi-san is co-Coach,” David said gleefully.

“I feel like all we do is cry at these meetings,” Alex said wistfully.

“You're not wrong,” Kushida chuckled, wiping his own, wet eyes while unconsciously fingering the engagement ring hanging around his neck. “We're sappy fellows.”

“I just want to say that I'm not getting married until I'm forty,” Juice declared. “I like where my life's at right now.”

“Same, bro,” Dragon Lee agreed. “But we're all at different stages in our lives. I think we have to come to terms with that. In no way does that mean our lives are over, but change is good, right? I didn't think I'd ever sign with New Japan long-term, but here I am. It's a decision I made for myself, for my future, and for my legacy. It's different, and scary, but I have faith I can persevere. After all, I have my friends to help me.”

“Now I'm crying,” David whined. “We're always crying.”

“I love you all _so much,_ ” Ryusuke practically squealed while tears gathered in his eyes. He jumped on Dragon Lee and hugged him tightly for what seemed like the umpteenth time that month.

And he hugged back. Before Ryusuke knew it, Tanahashi, Juice, and Kushida circled around them. It was a weird jumble of limbs and wet cheeks and babbling, but it was a group hug. Alex and David smiled from their respective computer screens, with shared promises that a complete team hug was imminent. Ryusuke felt safe, but most of all, he felt loved. These were his friends, the other half of his heart. Even if he never got married, he knew he could always count on his friends to keep him company. The world had changed, they themselves had changed, but their shared camaraderie- at least that stayed the same.

It was, in essence, peace on Earth.

* * *

“Am I in love with him?” He asked Katsuyori who was on his fifth beer and nodding off on Fergal's couch. Kenta had gone home to his family earlier.

“Uuuuuh, sure?” Katsuyori burped, slapped his chest once, and finished the can before opening another one. “How long did it take to fight the drink until you were finally able to stand its smell without having the urge to chug it down? Years, right?” Katsuyori took a long gulp of the muddy brown liquid before wiping his mustache with the back of his hand. “Shitloads of therapy, rounds of medication, more therapy, support group meetings... but you did it. You did it because you realized something was wrong, and then you tried to fix it. _And you did._ Taguchi didn't do any of that, _you_ did.”

Fergal sat on his end of the couch and curled in on himself. “But am I compensating for my guilt?”

“Really, how the fuck did you survive infancy,” Katsuyori deadpanned. “I _just said_ that he had nothing to do with your recovery. You recovered on your own. You had a _disease,_ Asshole. You didn't start drinking because you were sad, you drank because your _body_ wanted you to, and in the midst, your emotions were fucked in the ass, and then your attitude worsened, and it all went to hell in a handbasket before you knew what went wrong. Blame yourself for being a douchebag to him, for hurting him, but _don't_ put him on a pedestal. It dehumanizes him. The reason why you're able to admit you love him today is because you _finally_ have control of your body and your mind. You have the autonomy, the right to make these decisions for yourself. And you said it yourself- you're in love with him. You love him, Asshole. Don't try to blame it on the alcohol.”

“I don't want to be Omega, Katsuyori,” he said softly.

“You're not, Asshole. I'd have punched you if you were. You're a good man. You made some awful decisions, and for a long time, your sickness aggravated your bad habits, but that chapter's over. Now you're as good as new. You even have a better beard.”

Fergal chuckled. “I do. It took me a while to grow it out.”

“I'd kiss you if I wasn't straight, but just so know, for a man, you're actually not that bad looking,” Katsuyori drawled. “And he's your forever guy, isn't he? You loved him even when you were forced to leave.”

His eyes glazed over and he thought back to the night when Taguchi climbed on top of him and put the gun to his head. Then he put the second gun to his own head. Parts of _both_ their souls died that night. Taguchi didn't love him today, but he did love him once upon a time. He shot himself to kill that part of himself, but he couldn't kill the love in Fergal's heart. Fergal wished he could forget, but hadn't been able to, not even when he started anew in Florida. How could he? Every promise he broke circled back to Taguchi. They were friends- _best_ friends. At one point, they could have been lovers, but he was... what was he doing?

“What defines 'happiness' in your world, Katsuyori?”

“I'm happy when I'm wrestling,” he shrugged. “And when I'm with my friends. I got married because I thought I loved a woman, but it turned out I was too much of a flake in the romance department. So what did I do? I cheated.”

“Did you ever apologize to her?”

He nodded. “After the surgery, I went to her house and begged for her forgiveness, but I didn't ask her to take me back. I deserved to get dumped, and she deserved a real apology. I want to think she forgave me, but I can't be sure. We haven't talked in years.”

“Are you happy now?”

“I want to be with my friends, Asshole. I want to help raise their kids, and grow old talking about wrestling. I want to end my career when my knees are shot and the doctor tells me I need a cane to walk. A long time ago, I thought true happiness was a wife, some kids, and being a full-time wrestler. Now... Now, I realize that wrestling was the only right answer I ever had. I hurt a lot of people over the years thinking I was made for the traditional lifestyle. I'm lucky I never got her pregnant, because then I would've be a shitty parent too.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. It took a life-threatening injury for me to get it together in the end, but I got it together. You wanna know what makes me happy, Asshole? Wrestling. Wrestling makes me happy. My friends make me happy. Romantic love? That doesn't make me happy. Having casual sex with a beautiful woman? That makes me happy. Touring makes me happy. Trolling Tanahashi makes me happy. Third-wheeling Goto and Kenta makes me happy. Hanging out with you makes me happy. It's not everyone's definition of happiness, but it's _my_ happiness. And that's all that matters at the end of the day.”

Fergal smiled. He could always go home to Bray and settle down with a nice girl, or maybe he could go back to the States and settle down with one of the many women Shinsuke and his wife claimed were totally into him. He could date as many women as he wanted, maybe start dating men earnestly too, if he truly desired. But he didn't- he didn't want any of that. He wanted to be with one man, and one man only. Sure, he had options, but his heart was too old for that. He had a choice, once, and he made the wrong the choice. He paid for it too.

What was happiness? Fergal closed his eyes and tried to imagine black hair that curled naturally at the ends. A soft face, crooked teeth, a beautiful smile- there was peace in this image. Fergal felt safe, but most of all, he felt loved. This person loved him once. He loved him a lot, and even though it was too late for Fergal, at least the truth was out now. He loved Taguchi too- and he always would. It was Taguchi Ryusuke now, like it had been five years, like it had been ten years ago.

“To reiterate,” Katsuyori slurred, “do you, Asshole, love that weirdo Taguchi?”

Fergal punched his friend lightly in the arm. “Don't be rude,” he chuckled. “And yes. I love him.”

And he did.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left! Don't forget to leave a review!


	11. A Fool and His Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was so much he wanted to say, but Osaka had taught him a lesson. If he pushed, Taguchi would push back twice as hard. A touch was a call for war. Words were hollow, meaningless in the grand scheme of things. He didn't want to encroach on Taguchi's space or waste his time, but Fergal's heart clenched in his chest. Katsuyori was right- how long did he intend to linger? Forever? There might not be any future left for them, but he couldn't keep going like he didn't have something to say. He wanted to say something in Osaka. He wanted things he couldn't have, and when he couldn't follow through, the Demon came out and did it for him.

“RICO!”

“CAPTAIN!”

“DAD!”

“DAVID-KUN!”

“HE'S STILL NOT YOUR REAL DAD, DAVE!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, JUICE!”

* * *

“God hates us,” Katsuyori muttered under his breath.

Fergal smiled, slapping his friend's shoulder. “Now imagine taking a plane to and from venues on a consistent schedule, rarely getting a full night's sleep in a warm bed.”

“Hate you,” Katsuyori whined. “Why Italy? Why couldn't they hold it in a hotel in Ikebukuro?”

“Because they're filthy rich and paid for all our expenses,” Kenta barked from the cab. “Are you fools going to help with the luggage, or just stand around and bitch and moan for the next hour?”

Fergal and Katsuyori groaned in unison before helping Kenta with the bags. Goto, his wife, Kenta's wife, and their kids were already inside the gargantuan chalet. Apparently, there was a registration process that required photo identification and the regal invitation cards that had arrived in the mail back in Japan. At first, Fergal thought it unnecessary for a double engagement party set to be attended by a tight-knit circle. Ibushi's side was no doubt all of DDT, his international friends, some New Japan guys, and whoever his groom decided to bring, and Milano's side was all of New Japan, Dragon Gate, some more international fellows, while Sanada's was the Ingobernables, Muta's tribe, and maybe a bit of the American scene since he'd spent ample time overseas. There shouldn't have been more than five hundred people in attendance, maybe even less than that since a good portion of the wrestlers didn't have spouses or children, but once Fergal realized the amount of cars that were steadily streaming into the moderately sized parking lot, he revised his thinking. There were already thirty cars in the lot that could barely hold fifty. He quickly crossed himself and hoped for the best.

Once inside, Kenta, Katsuyori, and Fergal registered their own names at the desk. As soon as their names were logged into the guestbook, several bellboys took control of their luggage and led them to their rooms. Kenta, Katsuyori, Goto, and Fergal were given a four bedroom suite, two rooms for the married couples, one for all of the children, and one for the bachelors. When they entered, the children were already running around the open space while Goto held a cold beer to his head.

“I need sleep,” Goto grumbled, passing Kenta and Katsuyori cold beers from the mini-fridge next to the couch. He shuffled around the fridge and produced a cold water bottle for Fergal. “Tell me why this had to happen here. A twelve hour flight, no layover, _I have not slept in twenty-four hours.”_

“Because it's been paid for, and you will respect that,” his wife said patiently, but with a hint of warning. Kenta, Fergal, and Katsuyori bowed their heads respectfully as she coaxed the children into their own room with the promise of snacks and juice. Kenta's wife chuckled as she followed her friend.

“Forget about sleep,” Kenta said gravely. “We have to deal with the late arrivals tomorrow, and the grand groom revelation isn't until tomorrow night.”

“I'm gonna need so many bottles of wine,” Katsuyori muttered.

“Am I the only one who managed to sleep on the flight?” Fergal teased.

“Yes,” the other three deadpanned.

He couldn't help but laugh. The others soon broke into their own private smiles, and once one drink turned into three, they lounged comfortably on the long divan and discussed the plans they'd made for the trip. The chalet was open to the guests for a full week. Originally, Goto and Kenta agreed to stay for the engagement party and an extra day or two to go sight-seeing with their families, but after they realized that the return tickets had no fixed date, they decided to stay the full duration and make a holiday out of it. Katsuyori wanted to get on a flight out of the country the day after the engagement party, but was promptly shut down by both Goto and Kenta after Kenta sniped his passport and gave it to his wife for safekeeping. Fergal himself had called Ibushi the day before they were set to leave, and asked if he and his groom would be staying the whole week. Ibushi happily chirped that both engaged couples were staying for the full duration, but guests were welcome to stay and go as they pleased. Fergal himself hadn't taken a vacation in a while, and so had decided to stay the week as well. Kenta, thankfully, believed him and did not steal his passport.

Strings of laughter filtered through the open balcony. Fergal's ears perked up and he turned towards the sound. The were on the second floor of the chalet and conveniently stationed a few yards away from the entrance. He knew cars were steadily coming into the venue, but very few people were this loud after a twelve-hour flight from Tokyo to Milan. Fergal excused himself and stepped out into the balcony. He breathed in the fresh, evening air before looking over the wooden rails.

Taguchi was spinning Alex Shelley around while his wife took photos. A packed van spilled out the rest of their party, which included Kushida, his fiance, David Finlay, his wife, Tanahashi, his wife, and their kids. A smaller car came up the wrap-around driveway and dropped off Dragon Lee, Juice Robinson, Ricochet, and Tessa Blanchard. Their laughter became stronger, more camera flashes went off, Tanahashi flicked his thick hair from his eyes, while Juice howled with laughter as Taguchi planted a wet kiss on David's cheek.

“Soooo,” Katsuyori whistled from behind him. “How long do you plan on staring longingly at him? Just for tonight, or maybe the rest of your life?”

Fergal broke his eyes away from the scene down below and sighed. “You know it's not like that.” he said tiredly, turning to his friends.

“He's just being a dick,” Kenta huffed while side-eying Katsuyori.

“But he lingers,” Katsuyori accused. “Like a hawk- or a teenager with a crush. Either way, it's a little pathetic.”

Goto coughed. “When you say it like that...”

“Shit!” Kenta cursed under his breath. “Clear out men, we've been caught.”

Fergal turned around and looked down. Below, Kushida was glaring harshly up at them, but mostly at Fergal. He embarrassingly bowed his head in a silent apology, but before he could go hide inside of the suite, he caught Taguchi's eye.

And like in Osaka, everyone else ceased to matter. It was only him and his old friend in the quiet countryside, so close, and yet so far away.

* * *

“And avoiding him does what? Absolutely nothing,” Katsuyori grumbled. “Just talk to him, Asshole, that's all you have to do. Don't go touching his cheek in public, he's not your husband, but _talk_ to him.”

“For a divorced thirty-nine year old who got dumped because he cheated, he has a point,” Goto deadpanned.

Fergal wiggled awkwardly in his chair. They'd come down to the chalet's dining area, hoping to get a meal in before they retired for the night and Fergal finally had some space to brood quietly. Most of the guests that had already arrived opted out of the plentiful buffet because of the bone-crushing flight, and instead chosen the light snacks that awaited them in their rooms and suites. Goto's wife, Kenta's wife, and their kids were already fast asleep after a few Italian chocolates, some juice, and some soft music. Only the men were awake, and not because they wanted to be. With Taguchi Japan's arrival, a lot of nerves were being wrangled.

And with Fergal's shit luck, Taguchi Japan filtered into the dining hall while he picked at his fish. Luckily, it was only Taguchi, Juice, and David, because he knew that any moment alone with Kushida or Tanahashi would immediately devolve into a fight fight that Fergal was damned sure he wouldn't win. Katsuyori caught onto their arrival before Goto and Kenta did. He nudged Fergal, but Fergal pointedly ignored him.

Katsuyori rolled his eyes and cleared his throat. “I'm getting a glass of rosé, who wants some?” Goto and Kenta immediately raised their hands while still focused on their plates of linguine. Taguchi was also conveniently at the drink station, and before Fergal could stop his friend, Katsuyori had hightailed it to where the leader of Taguchi Japan was lounging around.

“I'm going to get some water,” he added hastily before practically running after Katsuyori.

“-and so he wants to talk, but he's too shy to ask, and really? We don't want Kushida and Tana trying to kill him, Taguchi, so parlay now so your friends doesn't come after my friend at the engagement party, because you know it won't be pretty, and I'm not saying I won't throw a punch, but I want you to know that I'm definitely throwing punches,” Katsuyori drawled, hand already wrapped around a bottle of rosé.

“I thought you were sharing that with our _friends_ , Katsuyori,” Fergal hissed. “Yes, let's get back to them, shall we?” He tried dragging Katsuyori away from a wide-eyed Taguchi, but he was much too strong, and barely budged an inch.

Katsuyori shrugged off his hand and gave Fergal a smug smile. “I was just telling our mutual acquaintance here that you were too much of a pissbaby to talk to him, but now that you're here, how about you two hash things out? No? Well, too bad.” Katsuyori placed the bottle of wine on the counter, grabbed both men by their arms, and forcibly dragged them outside onto the terrace. His grip was strong, too strong for Fergal to wrestle out of. Once they were sufficiently away from the dining party, Katsuyori let go and clapped his hands once. “Now, gentlemen, I'll be inside with my bottle and maybe a pretty waitress, but if either of you comes out before a good ten minutes, I'm kicking both of your asses? Am I clear? I think I'm clear, so I'll see you two kids in ten!”

And with that, Shibata Katsuyori disappeared inside. Taguchi Ryusuke and Fergal Devitt stared awkwardly at their feet. Fergal wanted to dig a hole into the granite, crawl into it, and go to sleep forever. He glanced at Taguchi's face once, caught the tiredness on the older man's expression, then brough his eyes down to the ground again.

And yet, Fergal cracked first, before Taguchi could change his mind about Katsuyori's threats. “Can we talk? Just for a minute?”

Taguchi let out a dry laugh. “Your friend says we have ten. Might as well make good use of it. What the hell do you want, Devitt?”

Fergal finally raised his eyes and looked at the man who'd haunted his dreams more times than the Demon did these past few months. Beautiful brown eyes deeper than the earth stared back at Fergal. “How have you been?”

“Fine,” Taguchi clipped.

There was so much he wanted to say, but Osaka had taught him a lesson. If he pushed, Taguchi would push back twice as hard. A touch was a call for war. Words were hollow, meaningless in the grand scheme of things. He didn't want to encroach on Taguchi's space or waste his time, but Fergal's heart clenched in his chest. Katsuyori was right- how long did he intend to linger? Forever? There might not be any future left for them, but he couldn't keep going like he didn't have something to say. He wanted to say something in Osaka. He wanted things he couldn't have, and when he couldn't follow through, the Demon came out and did it for him.

He wanted to speak, perhaps for the last time.

“One last time,” Fergal said softly, unaware that the words had slipped out of his mouth until he heard Taguchi scoff.

“No,” Taguchi laughed. “Whatever the hell it is that you're selling, no thanks.” Fergal raised his eyes and gazed at the crow's feet around Taguchi's eyes. They crinkled with his sad smile. “There isn't much left to discuss. We have to work around each other, right? You in your heavyweight division, me in my small corner of the junior division. It's better that way, but I guess Shibata was right- better we square things now so we don't have a repeat of what happened at Dominion. So air your grievances, asshole. I'm hungry and tired and I want a bath before I knock out.”

His heart clenched again, but this time, a watery smile bloomed on Fergal's face. “I was never a very good listener. But just this last time- can I have the last word?”

“No, not the last word,” Taguchi snapped. “Say your piece, but I'll finish it this time. Can't have you half-assing this too, Devitt. Last time, you got kicked out of your own Club because of the same bullshit, right? Let's not ha-”

“I love you,” he interrupted. “I'm in love with you, Taguchi.”

Fergal didn't register the pain until he'd stumbled back and felt the blood pour into his mouth. The punch landed square across his cheek, but thankfully without breaking anything but a bit of skin inside of his mouth. Before he could spit the blood out, Taguchi grabbed him by his collar and slammed him against the wall. Fergal felt the stonework dig into his back, but before Taguchi could throw another punch, words spilled from his mouth along with the blood that Taguchi drew.

“I'm in love with you! I can't apologize for the past anymore, because I own it. I know how horrible I was to you, Taguchi, and I'm going to spend the rest of my life carrying that shame with me. But I love you. I loved you then too, but I took you for granted. I didn't respect you; I didn't appreciate all the things you did for me, and now... Now I'm wasting your time with something you don't even care about. But I have to tell you the truth. I love you. I love you, and I'm going to spend every day I have left on this Earth making it up to you. And it's not because I think you need this from me, because it has nothing to do with you. It's my cheap apology for a decade's worth of pain I've caused you. I'm a cheap human being, after all. I'm sorry I can't think of any better way of saying this. I love you, I hate what I did to you, but if you can just... just listen to me this one last time- _I love you._ I loved you then, and I still love you now. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

Taguchi burst into laughter. Released from his grip, Fergal watched as the older man tried to stifle his mirth, only to laugh harder. Then Fergal noted the thick tears that had pooled in those pretty, brown eyes. He felt awful, terrible, evil even. Why did he keep doing that? Why did he keep hurting the people he loved the most, why couldn't he be normal just this once?

“God, I hate you, you know that?” Taguchi finally managed to wheeze out. “Ten years. You spend four of those making me the happiest man on earth, and then spend one year making me the most miserable disco fanatic known to man, and then disappeared for the other five. Fuck if you aren't the _worst_ person I've ever devoted myself to. You want the truth, Devitt? I loved you too, even when I had to retire you. You weren't good for me, for the company, for anyone. You were disease, and you couldn't stay. But I loved you. I loved you so much, _I put a fucking gun to my head after I pointed one at you!_ But I moved on. After you left, I made new friends, I lived. All that's left now are old feelings I want to reconcile forever. I don't love you anymore, Devitt. I don't want to love you anymore. But damn if this isn't the worst plot twist I've ever had to experience in real life. All these years, I thought I was the poor bastard in the relationship, but it turns out it was always you. You're right. You don't need to protect my honor, or waste your time making things up to me. I regained my dignity and my love for life a long time ago- and without you.”

There were no words that could describe his sadness, nothing on this Earth that could convey his regret and prove to Taguchi that he deserved one more chance. So instead, Fergal began to cry.

“God, look at you. Is this high school? It's fine, bastard. Life sucks! I never expected you to feel the same way. I'm flattered, Devitt, really, but Apollo 55's been dead since we shook hands at Invasion 2014. I wished you the best of luck that night. I'm wishing you the best of luck _right now._ This is a good ending, Devitt. This is how it's supposed to be- me and you in different corners of the world, even if we're in the same room... even if I did still love you. And that's it. I get the last say. It's over. No more weird exchanges, or stepping on each other's toes, no more... No more bullshit. This is where it ends- you in your world, me in mine.”

* * *

Ryusuke walked back inside the dining hall, pushed past Shibata, and ducked into the men's room. As soon as he locked the door, he slid down down to the floor and broke down crying. His heart clenched. Why did it hurt so much? He wasn't thirty anymore, or even thirty-five. He was an old man who had a body pillow for a companion, and dated casually on his off days. He was tired, and getting wearier by the day.

Was this divine punishment for choosing Devitt? He hadn't meant to. He'd loved other men and women before. He'd made mistakes and learned from them. Devitt was a mistake too, wasn't he? They'd never even kissed! They'd never held hands, never held each other close for longer than a few seconds, how could that _possibly_ be love? It was a farce. Ryusuke was a fool.

And yet, his chest hurt, and he sobbed. Prince Devitt was supposed to leave. They were never meant to step foot in the same country again, much less the same ring. And yet, he'd returned. He'd returned, and he'd held Ryusuke's face in his hands, and he'd pressed their foreheads together, and he loved Ryusuke.

Prince Devitt loved him, and in the end, it meant nothing.

* * *

 

“OK, so I want you to know that the whole inn knows that you're in love with Taguchi, and that he rejected you, and that Shibata's a meddlesome bastard,” Shinsuke pointed out as they shared a jug of orange juice. “Don't blame yourself, by the way. The terrace was right below Tribe Vanguard's suite, and once BxB and Flamita heard everything, the luchadors were notified almost instantly, and I think BxB called Magnum Tokyo, and well, Magnum's Magnum, and now everyone knows.”

“... oh,” Fergal said tiredly.

Shinsuke poured vodka into his orange juice and then downed the whole cup. “It's life. All's fair in love, war, and professional wrestling.”

* * *

“If it makes you feel any better, I heard Kenta screaming at Shibata and we're on a completely different floor,” Dragon Lee said softly, trying to assuage his morose friend.

Taguchi groaned pitifully into his pillow. “I'm ruined, Lee! No man or woman will ever want to be with me ever again!”

“Why not?” David asked curiously.

“Because it's Devitt, it doesn't get any worse than a former alcoholic with a hairline at the back of his head,” Tanahashi deadpanned from the couch.

The others decided not to question it.

* * *

The weather was nice on the night of the engagement party. Devitt put on a pair of fitted slacks, a navy blue shirt with tiny white stars printed into the fabric, dress shoes, and a velvet dinner jacket his father had passed on to him years ago. A silver watch finished his outfit. After he was dressed, he took a moment to clear his head outside. When the festivities began, they'd be in the same room again, but that would be it. They'd never be in the same world again, just like Taguchi had promised.

“IT'S STARTING!” Katsuyori called. “I KNOW YOU HATE ME RIGHT NOW, BUT THE PARTY'S STARTING, AND YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO MISS IT!”

Fergal broke into a smile, sucking in one last breath of the cool air.

* * *

For what it was worth, Ryusuke didn't think the revelation was all that bad. He expected Sasaki to come out with his 'pets' on a leash and dressed in his wrestling gear, but instead, Ishikawa, Paulie, and Endo filed out first in pressed suits and shiny shoes, with Sasaki sauntering in last wearing a fitted tuxedo and sporting his KO-D Openweight championship around his waist. Before anyone on the stage could open their mouths, Yosuke Santa Maria gasped and claimed she just _knew_ Ibushi and Ishikawa were together from the start because of how frequently they posted training pictures and videos together over the past year or so. Two tables to the right, Ryusuke caught La Sombra gasping since _he_ thought the swerve would be Omega, and three tables to Ryusuke's left, Marufuji and Harashima were politely clapping even though they were both visibly confused.

It was Ishikawa who announced to the pro-wrestling world that their beloved Charisma was breaking the DAMNATION creed and marrying DDT's Golden Star. Endo took the mic next and explained that even though Ibushi had inspired him to become a wrestler, it was actually Charisma who helped him grow into the man he'd become today, and that watching him defend his KO-D at Sumo Hall against DDT's Ace in two months time would be dream come true. Then Paulie grunted, Ishikawa translated, and seven hundred guests learned that DAMNATION accepted this new chapter in their life. Ishikawa took to the mic one last time and explained that they'd unanimously agreed that Ibushi was a worthy partner for their leader, but should he break their Charisma's heart, then he was a dead man. That earned a few gasps, but mostly cheers. Matters of the heart were sacred, after all.

Ryusuke couldn't help the tears that sprung in his eyes when Ibushi didn't bother to take the mic from the older man, but instead got on the stage floor and bowed deeply to the members of DAMNATION. Ishikawa caved first and helped Ibushi up before embracing him in fully. Paulie joined in next, and then Endo, but Sasaki cackled in the back like it was the funniest thing in the world. Only after Sasaki's mother smacked him across the back of his head did he finally, albeit begrudgingly, join the group hug and his groom who was openly weeping on stage.

When they kissed, half the room hollered while the other half clapped. It was Ryusuke who first caught Kenny Omega's figure at the far end of the entrance to the party hall, obscured from Ibushi's vision.

* * *

Fergal saw Omega sit down at a NOAH table when President Sanshiro Takagi began making his formal speech. He wore a pair of faded jeans, a light gray blazer, and his signature Ray Bans. Fergal didn't know if the man was angry or just incredibly stiff, but either way, Kenny Omega was here. He caught Naito raising his eyebrow, as if interested in the sudden turn of events. The Ingobernable nudged his husband, Bushi, and gestured to the former Bullet Club leader who'd sat down at a table full of NOAH trainees.

“My DDT sons are marrying,” President Takagi cried into the mic. “I've never been so happy. The whole tab's covered, everyone, please eat and drink to your heart's content!”

“I trained Sasaki, stop revising the narrative!” Dick Togo, Sasaki's teacher and primary mentor, yelled at the president of DDT.

While the two old men scuffled on the stage, Sanada and Milano raised their glasses. The Ingobernables scattered around the party hall all raised their champagne flutes and wished the happy couple the best. After Diego managed to wrangle the mic away from his troublesome teachers, he passed the mic to Milano.

The former wrestler smiled and waved as if he were king. “There's free childcare upstairs, and it's open bar after dinner. Have fun, assholes.”

And with that, all hell broke loose.

* * *

Ryusuke was three drinks in after dinner when Taichi purposefully tripped him with his cane. That led to a mini fist fight that nobody won because Minoru threatened to knock them _both_ out if they didn't behave, while Kanemoto Koji and Abe Miho cackled and sipped on Mimosas. Ryusuke was thoroughly pissed, but also in need of another drink.

He and Juice snagged a bottle of Pinot Noir and set up shop next to Harada Daisuke and Kotoge Atsushi who were sharing a cigarette and a bottle of brandy behind one of the decorative statues adorning the main party hall. After Juice and Ryusuke sat down on the floor next to them, the four clinked their glasses and settled into a peaceful monotony. Soon, a bleary-eyed Tadasuke crawled over to take a nap on Harada's lap while Takahashi popped in from time to time to plant a kiss on Kotoge's cheek or lips before running off to create more trouble with the rest of the Ingobernables.

Ryusuke saw a beaming Suzuki sharing drinks with the president of DDT while the rest of Suzuki-gun milled around the party hall. TAKA was feeding Sasaki some kind of dessert while Taichi had moved onto Shiozaki Go to pick a fight with. This time, however, someone _did_ win, and it wasn't Taichi, so Ryusuke and his companions had a good laugh when Taichi was knocked out cold after a thirty second scuffle. Shiozaki then drunkenly staggered around until he finally managed to find a jug of cold water he then immediately plunged his bruised hand into. Apparently, the ice cubes in the water were sufficient enough for Shiozaki because moments later, he happily sat down and waved at his friends with his free hand as the jug became his new best friend.

“Where's Tana?” Ryusuke couldn't find his friend or his wife in the hullabaloo. Suddenly, Tadasuke starting giggling wildly in Harada's lap. “What?” Ryusuke asked accusingly.

“I saw him hitting on his wife before I got here,” Tadasuke whispered conspiratorially.

“Why is he hitting on his wife?” Juice said confusedly. The alcohol had barely done a number on the young American, and he was already on his second glass of wine.

“Because the alcohol sent him back to 1995, and he thinks his wife is still his crush,” a mystery voice purred from behind.

Ryusuke practically jumped, as did Harada, Kotoge, and Tadasuke while Juice just gave the partygoer a nasty look. Jay White had his tie wrapped around his head and held a champagne flute that was full to the brim. He took a light sip of the sparkling liquid and smacked his lips in earnest. The NOAH men gave the newcomer looks that spelled out various stages of “yikes,” while Juice and Ryusuke huffed and went back to their Pinot Noir.

“And he unbuttoned his shirt and then started reciting her _love_ poetry. Jesus Christ- who does that?” White shrugged once and then downed the whole flute in one go before stumbling away from the Pillar Bros, as Ryusuke had taken to calling their unofficial drinking party.

“Hey, Coach?”

“Hmm?”

“Aren't Tanahashi-san and Mrs. Tanahashi supposed to hold off on the baby until _after_ the G1?”

“Huh?”

“They're drunk... and flirting... and they think they're in college.”

As soon as Juice finished talking, Ryusuke dropped his glass and scrambled up. Juice hastily followed him as they frantically searched for their Ace friend and his amazing wife. When they realized they couldn't find them in the main hall, they began searching the many rooms peppered throughout the chalet's ground floor. They found Akai Saki and Takanashi Masahiro kissing in a supply closet, while Kudo was six feet away and snoring on the floor, his arms wrapped around an empty bottle of saké. Okada was sobbing in a coatroom with Ishii trying to calm him down, while a somber Kodaka Isami gave them a salute before going back to the Connect-Four game he was playing with three of the BJW boys on the floor of one of the mens' bathrooms. Yosuke Santa Maria was making out with a handsy El Lindaman in a corner next to a water fountain, while a _very_ drunk Takeda Masashi and Kasai Jun were actually _inside_ the water foundation and lounging about in nothing but their underwear. They both waved their wineglasses at Ryusuke and Juice as they dashed about trying to find their friends.

In the end, they discovered the pair snoring against each other while tucked away in a corner near the chalet's entrace. Tanahashi's shirt was unbuttoned, but his suit jacket was draped over his wife who was resting her head on his shoulder. They were both still dressed in their eveningwear, so Ryusuke quietly recited a prayer of thanks to the gods before draping his own suit jacket over Tanahashi so his nipples wouldn't freeze off. They decided to let the pair rest as it seemed they were clocked out for the night. Suddenly, Ryusuke and Juice heard howls of mirth filter in from outside and decided to move there next. Ryusuke gave his sleeping friends one last smile before heading over to see what the commotion was about in front of the building.

* * *

Fergal watched Ibushi perform a moonsault off a third-floor balcony and into the arms of ten of his friends just as Taguchi and Juice Robinson came outside. His heart picked up its pace at their arrival, but a stiff slap to the back, courtesy of Katsuyori, brought him back to the current situation at hand. Ibushi had landed on top of Gota Ihashi, Akito, Diego, Shuji Ishikawa, Suguru Miyatake, Michael Nakazawa, Harashima, Kushida, Mikami, and Shinsuke Nakamura. He rolled off his friends and laughed hysterically while they massaged their backs and arms after having broken his fall. The spectators included Fergal, a pseudo-naked Katsuyori who wore nothing but his wrestling trunks and his dress shoes, a reticent Konosuke Takeshita, and all of the Trans Am Family who had their phones out and were archiving video and audio footage of this auspicious night. Fergal smiled at the tomfoolery, but couldn't help but glance at the man who'd come out with his friend, unaware that Fergal was in even the picture.

* * *

“And there's Takeshita brooding in the corner instead of getting happily drunk because his beloved Endo-san won't pay attention to him,” drawled Milano. “I feel like there's too many love stories taking place at the same time, to be perfectly honest.”

Ryusuke nodded. After the moonsault, Ishikawa had hoisted Ibushi onto his shoulder and the party moved to the back of the chalet where there was a heated pool waiting for them. Needless to say, Ibushi went face-first into the water still in his regal suit when after Ishikawa practically tossed him into the pool. Sasaki and Endo Tetsuya hollered at the scene from the lavish couches not too far away.

“Why won't Takeshita just talk to him?” Juice asked confusedly. “He's not a douche anymore, right?”

“It's not about the douchiness lifting,” Antonio Honda said wistfully. “It's the fact that Konosuke-kun doesn't know how to approach Tetsuya now that they aren't kids anymore. Tetsuya-kun, he's grown up. He's an international superstar now, and he does what he wants when he wants to. It's not like it used to be in Happy Motel where he just followed the motions because he was too young to understand why everyone favored Konosuke-kun over him. He knows now, but he doesn't care about being the Ace. He's happy being DAMNATION and wrestling everyone in DDT _and_ beyond. He doesn't have to carry the burden of the company, so he doesn't waste his time catering to all the sponsors. Konosuke-kun? He has to do all of that _and_ wrestle. He never learned how to talk to someone intimately, especially not someone who used to be his best friend. And now, he has to fight Tetsuya's new family at the biggest show we run. He's afraid.”

“God, that is so depressing,” Ryusuke murmured.

“Not as depressing as the moment I walked in on Bushi fucking Naito in the men's restroom in the east wing,” Milano huffed before taking a bite of his chocolate cake.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Juice snorted.

Milano shook his head. “Nope. After the bar opened, I went inside to take a leak and found them romping against the sink. I would have ignored them had it not been for the fact that Naito didn't shave his goddamn legs.”

“Ewww.” Ryusuke shuddered in disgust. “My legs are always shaved, hm.”

“A pair of bear-legs flailing in the air while Bushi did his thing. When I tell you I almost hunted down a razor for the ugly bastard, I really did consider going into our room and taking one of Sanada's disposables. I wanted to throw it at his face!”

“This is more tragic than the time we found Akito hung over in Shinjuku. He was shirtless and being cuddled by a homeless man,” Antonio remembered mournfully.

Ryusuke couldn't help but snort before bursting into a giggle fit. The rest soon joined him as the absurdity taking place that night finally settled into their heads. This? This was everyone at their happiest, even if they wouldn't remember half of it the next morning. After he finished another glass of the Moscato Milano was pouring everyone at regular intervals, he finally caught the eyes of the man he'd made a point to ignore the entire night. They'd come back into the party hall after watching Miyatake fish Ibushi out of the pool, and while they'd resumed drinking and eating, the lights had dimmed for the dance hour. Several couples had already filtered out onto the dance floor and were slowly moving to the Italian jazz crooning from the speakers peppered throughout the hall.

Prince Devitt stood some yards away, his eyes on Ryusuke the entire time.

* * *

Omega was brooding in the corner, but the men of DDT were the vicious type, so for the past hour, seven of the DDT roster members made a point to encircle the Canadian and keep him company. Once in a while, he cracked a smile, but it faded almost instantly as the bitterness crept in. When Ibushi reentered the dining hall barefoot and wearing nothing but his underwear and his groom's dress shirt, Omega's eyes steeled and he glared. But Ibushi was different. Ibushi would _always_ be different. He saw Omega surrounded by the DDT members and practically ran over to them. Cackling like a banshee, he jumped on Omega, Nakazawa, and Takanashi. When the four went down, the rest of the men fell to the floor to help them up. Fergal turned away, giving them their privacy.

“I just got rejected by my sixth waitress,” Katsuyori pouted.

Fergal shrugged, taking a sip of his apricot juice. “I would put on a pair of pants and a shirt and try again.”

“No, no pants,” Katsuyori huffed. “More drink.” When he saw Goto walk by with a bottle of sherry, he beamed and stumbled after their friend.

Fergal smiled. He was a little sad about what happened the night before, but happy that it didn't stop Taguchi from having his fun. He was at a table with Milano, Juice, and Antonio, sharing a bottle and desserts. Fergal wished he could join, but he knew that, that would mean imposing. He was here on Ibushi's behalf, after all.

A romantic number came on, prompting many more couples to join the dance floor. Fergal saw Ibushi hobble over to Sasaki who was busy chugging a pitcher of sangria with Diego, Mad Paulie, and Tetsuya Endo. Sasaki didn't even have a moment to say no. Ibushi grabbed him by the waist and dragged him over to the dance floor that was soon becoming packed. Sasaki moaned for five, ten seconds before he gave up and began dancing slowly with his half-naked fiance. He saw Milano and Sanada join next, while Naito and Bushi, Goto and his wife, and Kenta and his wife were already swaying softly to the music with a myriad of other couples.

Fergal took another look at Taguchi sitting in his over-sized shirt, still clueless to what slimfit was, enjoying his Moscato, the smile on his face so raw and so real that Fergal was tempted to kiss his dimples and hold him close. He was in love. He knew he'd dwell on it forever, but what about happiness- what was happiness to Fergal?

* * *

 

Ryusuke had noticed his former tag partner stare at him from afar, but he never expected Devitt to awkwardly shuffle over to where he and Antonio were finishing off the Moscato. Juice had run off just minutes before to spend some quality time with a nice lady from the Ice Ribbon roster. Ryusuke finished his glass and chose to ignore the man who stood stiffly behind his chair.

“May I... May I have this dance?”

Ryusuke rolled his eyes while Antonio strategically removed himself from the table with the rest of the Moscato. He pouted and then shook his head. “No.”

“Please?”

Ryusuke turned around and looked at Devitt. He averted Ryusuke's gaze, as if unable to meet his eyes even though he'd been staring at Ryusuke since he'd arrived back in the dining hall. He took a look at the bruised cheek and suddenly felt bad. He'd broken a creed- no fighting outside of the venue. It didn't count when you were drunk, which is why he almost decked Taichi, but they were sober when they fought last night. He sighed. He hadn't been chewed out by any authority figures in the crowd tonight or this morning, so he'd dodged a bullet there. The one thing he _couldn't_ dodge, however, was Prince Devitt. Bastard, he thought tiredly.

“Fine,” he said after several awkward minutes. “But it's because I punched you last night. After this, we're square.”

* * *

They moved slowly to the music. From the corner of his eye, Fergal noted Sasaki trying to act tough and fail miserably as he wept into Ibushi's chest, who was in turn laughing and holding his beloved who was wearing his suitjacket over a tanktop because he had to give his shirt to Ibushi so he wouldn't freeze after the pool dive. The shirt barely fit Ibushi, but it didn't matter. Sasaki was nestled in his arm, and they were smiling, together, living a life Fergal knew they deserved to live after years of individual hardships.

On the other side, Sanada and Milano moved quietly while their foreheads touched. Something thundered inside Devitt's chest and he knew that this moment was his last moment to write his destiny. After tonight, he'd go with the wind. He'd do what he had to do to create a new legacy and be the best that could ever be- the best that had ever been. He knew, from the start, that he couldn't do it alone. He needed friends, so he found friends, but he also knew that he wanted the one he adored the most in this world.

“You belong with me, Ryusuke.” He knew he had no right to call him by his first name, but the Black Dove¹ wept. It wept, and Fergal's heart soared.

Taguchi hummed, resting his cheek against Fergal's shoulder as they moved to the tender melody. “Maybe once, but not anymore. I have a husband and a wife now. They're soft and machine-washable and cost me a few thousand yen, but I take very good care of them.”

Fergal chuckled, inhaling his scent. “Guess I'll have to steal you away from them.”

Taguchi went quiet for close to a minute. After the prolonged period of silence, he spoke again. “What are you doing, Devitt?” He asked tiredly.

“Making the same mistakes, but in different ways... Reaching for something, someone, I can't have.” He gently squeezed Taguchi's hand. “Hoping I don't crash and burn this time.”

“You will,” Taguchi sighed, raising his head and looking Fergal in the eyes. “You're only hurting yourself right now.”

“What makes you happy, Taguchi?”

Taguchi scrunched his eyebrows and took a moment to dwell on it. “My friends, wrestling, my life. You?”

“You,” he said without missing a beat.

“That's a shame,” Taguchi said, giving him a sad smile. “You don't make me happy anymore.”

“One more time?” He wanted to beg, get down on one knee and just try. One more chance- wasn't their past worth one more try?

“There was never a first time to begin with,” Taguchi reminded him.

Fergal's heart shattered, but he smiled. “... no, there wasn't. I guess that's fair.”

“Devitt?”

“Hmm?”

“I hate you,” Taguchi said smiling.

“Is that a yes?” He asked meekly.

“You can try, but it won't work. I've been happy without you for a very long time now.”

“You don't have to take me back, Taguchi,” he lied.

Taguchi furrrowed his brows. “I don't?”

“No, you don't. I still love you, but this the price I have to pay for the things I did to hurt you. So thank you- for this dance.”

“It's a nice dance, isn't it?”

Fergal nodded. “It is.”

"You don't get the last word, asshole,” Taguchi snapped suddenly. “Always with the theatrics! I know you better than anyone else- why let the guilt ruin you again? Find a nice girl, or a guy, and settle down, Devitt. You say you've changed, and it looks like your friends can attest to that. You don't need me.”

“You're right. When I did need you, you were there, but when I didn't, I threw you away. I welcomed your hatred, you know. You looked so beautiful when you wanted to kill me. I suppose I've always wanted to die in your arms.”

Taguchi kneed him in the stomach and stole the breath from his lungs. He couldn't help but break into pained laughter. “Please stop reading bad romance novels,” Taguchi gritted through his teeth. “You sound like a goddamn idiot.”

“I was happy, Taguchi,” he shuddered. “You were wrong. I was happy when I was with you.”

“And?”

“I'm selfish. I want it back.”

“Too bad. I don't want you.”

Fergal smiled, accepting the fate he always knew he'd have to. “That's fair. I'll just love you from afar.”

“Good, I like seeing you suffer. Maybe that'll teach you a lesson in courtesy. Don't try to betray Kenta, by the way, Shibata will kill you.”

Fergal laughed out loud. The dance floor was packed, and they were just a single sparkle in a galaxy full of dazzling stars. “I won't. Taguchi- thank you again for this dance.”

“You're welcome, _Fergal.”_

Devitt's breath hitched. This was the first time in over five years that Taguchi had called him by his first name. Suddenly, the music stopped and pair broke away from each other as Milano, Sanada, Ibushi, and Sasaki took to the stage.

“Thank you everyone for joining us tonight,” Milano began earnestly. “ The inn is yours for the week, so please enjoy. We'll be here for the whole trip, so if you want to join us, you're most welcome. As for tonight, I'm off to bed and taking my man with me. I don't know about Ibushi and Sasaki, however.”

Sasaki swiped the mic from Milano and put it right to his lips. “We never conform, kiss ass, or get married! … unless we have the expression permission from all the other members of DAMNATION, but that clause is only factored into marriage! We're still not kissing any ass or conforming to your lot!”

“Someone get that mic out of his hands before he goes on a DAMNATION tirade,” Fergal heard Nobuhiro Shimatani mutter frantically.

Luckily, Ibushi caught on and gently pried the mic away from his shitfaced beloved. “Everyone, thank you! I'm gonna drink some more, and so should you!” And with that, the couples bowed and then the party resumed.

Taguchi had returned to his friends while Katsuyori drunkenly draped himself over his shoulder. Fergal turned away with his friend, but in a split second, turned around again. He took a long, hard look at Taguchi. What was happiness? Taguchi smiled, slapping Ricochet's shoulder and beamed brightly at Juice and David. Fergal, in turn, tugged his lips upward into a smile. Taguchi was happiness. In his years, there was only ever one person who shared his happiness with Fergal, and that was Taguchi. He loved him. He might never be with him, and it would probably hurt him well into the future, but Fergal wanted to use that pain to grow stronger and become a better person. Taguchi would want that for him. Maybe he'd even fall in love again, with someone different, with someone who'd reciprocate his feelings.

But deep down, Fergal hoped that the man he'd eventually become would be a man Ryusuke Taguchi would find worth loving again. Because that was happiness- being with Taguchi, being around him, that was Fergal's happiness ten years ago, and today.

* * *

Ryusuke woke up in the chalet's garden. His head was in Juice's lap, who was asleep against a marble pillar. Ricochet, Tessa, David, his wife, and Lee were asleep on the grass around them. Most of them had tablecloths draped over their figures to keep them warm. Ryusuke himself was nestled underneath a velvet suit jacket that was most certainly not his, but it was comfortable, and so he put it on. He then carefully removed himself from Juice's person, tip-toed around his snoring friends, and began to make his way back to his suite.

Ryusuke saw that most people were in different stages of sleep induced by heavy inebriation as he cut through the dining hall. He found Kushida and his girlfriend next to a table, her tucked underneath a tablecloth while Kushida spooned her and kept her warm. Naito and Bushi were snoring underneath a _table_ , the leader of the Japanese Ungovernable chapter snoring deeply into his husband's chest while Bushi had a protective grip over his waist. Takahashi was sprawled out on one of the tables, Sombra asleep in a chair tucked into the table, while Zelina Vega and EVIL slept upright against the stage, her head resting on his broad shoulder.

He spied all of DAMNATION, save their leader, sprawled on the stage. Takeshita Konosuke was asleep in front of the stage, lightly grasping Endo's hand that was dangling off the stage. That brought a smile to Taguchi's face. As he moved towards the end of the hall and into the entrance area, he stepped over sleeping wrestlers and their wives, friends, and husbands. He found Omega asleep on Nakazawa's lap, though he was a bit confused as to why Omega didn't just go up to his room since everyone knew he didn't drink.

By the time Ryusuke made it to his suite, he was wide awake. Years of grueling, predawn training and copious amount of alcohol intake had strengthened his tolerance level. He hopped into the shower, cleaned up, and put on a fresh set of clothes before following the path to the chalet's kitchen. Inside, he found Milano and Kota sitting on the counter and having a breakfast.

“Oi, Taguchi,” Ibushi giggled. “Down for eggs and cigarettes?”

Ryusuke shrugged. “Why the hell not?”

“Marriage is so stressful,” Milano griped, already pulling out his cigarette pack before they even left the kitchen.

“Facts,” Ibushi hummed while he grabbed plates of food gestured Ryusuke over.

Ryusuke smiled. He grabbed some plates and jugs full of water and orange juice, and then shuffled over to the west side of the chalet that was thankfully empty of drunks since Kodaka and Miyamoto had blearily vacated after the morning sun came up. They settled down on the grass and began eating and chatting about the party the night before. Ibushi had slept for three hours but woken up fresh-faced because he was an immortal demon, and Milano had slept seven hours and still couldn't get rid of his alcohol-riddled breath. Ryusuke himself beamed, part of Ibushi's immortal tribe, and clinked cigarettes with his friend before earnestly joining the calming smoke.

It was, in essence, peace on Earth.

* * *

When they returned to Tokyo, Ryusuke took a long nap that ended up lasting a full twenty-four hours. Life resumed, but he still found time to finger the diamond pendant that he found on his doorstep the day after his birthday. With it was the velvet blue box that the pendant had come inside, and the velvet blazer that was draped over his sleeping form back in Milan. They all came from the same man, a man he thought he'd left behind in his memories for good. And yes, he touched the items almost nightly, feeling their warmth and their familiarity.

What if Devitt had stayed after he lost? Would he and Ryusuke have reconciled? Would they have worked together to take down Bullet Club? Would Ryusuke have started Taguchi Japan with Devitt instead of Tanahashi? Would he and Tanahashi have ever become such good friends? Did Apollo 55's breakup need to happen for Ryusuke to become a better man? He didn't know, but he realized that a part of him _wished_ he did. Love was hard, but it wasn't dead.

* * *

“They're announcing the G1 participants tonight,” Kenta told him on the phone as Fergal headed towards the dojo.

“Noted. See you at dinner?”

“See you then.” With that, the phone went dead and Fergal chuckled as the day got just a little brighter.

He slowed down when he saw Taguchi standing outside of the dojo, dressed in his training gear. Neither was scheduled to fight at the Korakuen show that evening, so they shouldn't have crossed paths today. When they did stumble on each other during random occurrences like today, they stared but didn't speak, like strangers who sat by each other on the train every morning but never opened their mouths to say hello.

The G1 climax participants' names would be revealed tonight, and Fergal wished he could celebrate the moment after with his former partner, his friend, his beloved. Taguchi turned his head and their eyes locked. Fergal smiled at him, but didn't stand around. He moved towards the entrance, breaking eye contact, staying true to the promise he'd made himself and to Taguchi.

He wouldn't push. Fergal couldn't- he owed him Taguchi that much, at least.

* * *

“Announcing freelancer, Penta El 0M! Jay White! IWGP Intercontinental champion, Kushida! The Eternal Ace, Tanahashi Hiroshi! The Ace, Okada Kazuchika! The Cleaner, Kenny Omega! The hero New Japan has waited for since his departure in 2014, Prince Devitt! NOAH's Ace, Nakajima Katsuhiko! Shiozaki Go! Goto Hirooki! Ishii Tomohiro! Kenta! Bad Luck Fale! IWGP Heavyweight Champion, Shibata Katsuyori! El Desperado! IWGP US Heavyweight Champion, Juice Robinson! Representing DDT, Akito! Representing All Japan, Zeus! Kitamura Katsuya! Kotoge Atsushi! Kenoh! Representing Dragon Gate, Takagi Shingo! Freelancer Ibushi Kota, and finally, representing Pro-Wrestling BASARA, Abe Fuminori!

* * *

After the Korakuen show, Tanahashi came over for a beer. They clinked bottles and gazed up at the summer stars as they drank outside on Taguchi's balcony. After some time, Ryusuke decided to tell his friend the truth. “I still love him.”

“Guess I have to kill him now,” Tanahashi sighed, taking a swig of his beer.

Ryusuke laughed. “I should be the one getting killed.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I'm the one who asked for the stipulation. Because I couldn't bear the thought of being in the same promotion as him anymore. Because I knew that if either of us left, the other would finally be free.” Ryusuke took a sip of his beer and thought back on his conversation with Gedo back in 2014. “I wanted to back out of it last minute, but by then, all the other higher-ups had agreed to the terms. Gedo wanted Okada to take him out, but it wasn't Okada's battle to fight, it was mine. But in the end, no one cared about me or what I wanted. They really thought I'd lose. Hell- _I_ thought I was gonna lose because I _wanted_ to lose. I wanted one last chance to prove that he was as cruel as I thought he was, so when I left, he'd spit at me while I walked away. I hoped later that he'd regret it, realize that I meant something to him, and then beg me to come back. I'd created a fantasy where if I lost- _I'd still win._ But that's not what happened. He turned on them, I won the bout, and then he was gone. I didn't even get to tell him how much he meant me. He just... left.”

“And that was his fault,” Tanahashi stated. “In the end, New Japan didn't need him- _you_ didn't need him. In the end, it all worked out without him.”

Ryusuke's heart clenched in his chest. He thought about icy blue eyes that had transformed into twin pools full of emotion, kindness, regret, and ultimately love. They'd held each other in a dance, as close to a lover's embrace as it'd ever get between them. Devitt had changed. The years, the circumstances, the shame had all come together to create a new man, a new man who had all the memories of his past mistakes lined up in his head and wasn't ashamed to admit them or beg Ryusuke for his forgiveness. This man now had good friends, a support network, fans who loved him, and a world that had everything to offer. Tears sprung in Ryusuke's eyes as he cursed his luck, his past, his future- his everything.

He loved Prince Devitt, and tonight, at this very moment, wherever he was, Ryusuke knew that Prince Devitt loved him too.

**THE END**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¹: This is the official name of the Demon that Prince Devitt painted for the Invasion 2014 match against Taguchi.
> 
> And that's it, folks! Don't forget to leave a comment, and stay tuned for the sequel set to be released late this year!


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